Futzed Up Fairytales
by Coffee-Flavored Fate
Summary: Your favourite childhood stories pureed in a blender, sieved through my mind, poured into Hetalia molds, and frozen for your consumption. Crack? of course. Parody? most definitely. Fine literature? Hrm... Romerica, among others.
1. A Republican Prince

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. **

_Obviously based on Beauty and the Beast, with elements from both the animated movie masterpiece and various older 'traditional' versions of the fairytale. And, of course, Hetalia. _

_I'm sure you'll see quite a few other references in there, as well. XD_

_Should this be rated M for language? Hmm..._

* * *

><p>One early winter's night, too early for snow but far enough in to be bone-chillingly cold, two young princes were spending a quiet evening in the warm shelter of their castle, watching the storm outside.<p>

"Wow, it's really coming down out there." Alfred remarked, pondering his next move in the chess game he was playing against his younger brother. "Glad I'm not out in that shitstorm."

"Language, Alfred." Matthew chided, glancing out the window next to their gilded table. "But you're right. It does look very bad." It did. Icy rain sleeted down in silver sheets, gleaming in the darkness. It beat against the castle in an angry flood, filling the marble halls with a dull roar. Occasionally flashes of lightning would illuminate the night, turning the almost solid wall of falling water briefly into a mirror, reflecting the storm-drenched turrets and the angry clouds above.

"I wonder if I could build a robot to control the weather." Alfred wondered idly, capturing his brother's castle with his knight, and leaning his chin in his hand to gaze pensively at the storm.

"You and your robots." Matthew sighed, perusing the board. If he moved the rook...no, that would put it at risk from Al's other knight. Hm...

"Robots are awesome!" Alfred grinned excitedly, waving his arms in the air as he spoke. "Wouldn't it be nice to be able to have sunny skies whenever you wanted? Or rain for the crops, or fight tornadoes and stuff! I could call it 'MeteoMan', and-"

He was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door of the chamber, more a declaration of intent than a request for entry. "Your majesties," the princes' steward, Ludwig, announced as he opened the door, "there's a visitor at the gates requesting refuge from the storm."

"Well jeez Luddy, let 'em in!" Alfred exclaimed, leaping up from the table in his concern for their guest. "It's cold as hell out there! Their balls'll freeze off!"

"Language, Prince Alfred." Ludwig scolded. "And I attempted to do so, but he refuses to enter until you come and greet him personally."

"Sounds like a nutjob, but sure thing." Alfred agreed. "C'mon, Mattie."

"Don't forget your coronet, Alfred." Prince Matthew scooped the golden circlet from where it lay next to the chessboard as he donned his own.

"Ah, thanks." Alfred took it and dropped it on his head, slinging an arm around his steward's shoulder as they left the room. "Y'know Luddy, I was thinking we should build a robot to control the weather! What do you think? Isn't that a great plan?"

"Unfortunately, Prince Alfred, we have not yet reached the level of scientific development necessary for robotic technology." Ludwig informed him regretfully.

"Oh right, with all the being in medieval times and stuff." The prince sighed. "Bummer. Oh well. And how many times do I have to ask you not to call me 'Prince Alfred'? It sounds so... stuffy and undemocratic. We're buds! Call me Al."

"We're a patriarchal monarchy, Alfred, it's not supposed to be democratic, eh?" Matthew explained, arms wrapped tightly around his royal pet bear. "We rule by divine right and possession of male chromosomes."

"It would be a breech of propriety." Ludwig supported.

"Well propriety sucks." Alfred sulked, shoulders slumping. "I don't see why we have to be all _monarchistic_ anyway. Fuck that. Fuck that shit right in the ass."

"_Language,_ Alfred." The others scolded in unison.

"Whatever, man." The elder prince threw his arms up in frustration, stalking down the hall ahead of the others in a huff. "Let's just go convince this wierdo to come in out of the cold."

The castle's immense double doors lay open, and the cold wind and sleet took full advantage, rushing in to explore all corners of the vast entryway and leaving an expanding puddle of slush on the marble floor. A dark, hooded figure stood in the doorway, bowed under the weather's assault, but steadfastly refraining from entry despite the urgings of several servants surrounding it. As they drew close, they heard the figure responding to the servants' attempts at persuasion thusly, "Bugger off, you lot! I said I'll sodding well not set foot in this bloody castle until the master of the place arrives, and I jolly well-"

"Alright, alright, break it up guys!" Prince Alfred announced his presence, spreading his arms wide to shoo the servants away. "I'm here now, the hero has arrived! Everything's alright!" Behind him, Prince Matthew and Ludwig sighed at his habitual lack of regard for decorum. The servants on the other hand skittered away, their relief at not having to deal with the belligerent person in the doorway obvious.

"So!" Prince Alfred posed heroically in the doorway, fists on his hips, cape whipping in the wind. "I'm here just like you asked. You ready to come in now, buddy? It looks pretty nasty out there."

"..._You're_ the master of this castle?" The hooded figure asked, disbelief colouring its tone.

"Well, I don't know about _master_, but I'm totally the prince. Well," he amended, "My brother's a prince too, Prince Matthew," He gestured behind him in introduction, and Prince Matthew inclined his head in greeting, "and this is _our_ castle, but I'm the crown prince and all, so I guess you could say that if you wanted. I'm not too worried about titles though, so you can just call me Al. Y'know, you should really come inside, dude. You're gonna catch like, pneumonia or somethin'."

"...You know, I'm not entirely sure I have the right castle. This _is_ the castle of an orphaned young prince who's had anything his heart desired his entire life, yes?"

Prince Alfred exchanged a glance with his brother, and shrugged. "Yeah, sounds like Mattie and me, sure."

"Never wanted for anything?"

"Well, I'd like a system of government where supreme executive power rests in the hands of the people, equal rights for everybody and a more progressive science program, but otherwise, sure."

"Er..." Said their recalcitrant guest, "pardon me, it's just...you're supposed to be, y'know, spoiled. Selfish, self-centered, etcetera. What with being a priviledged class, and all."

"Hey." Prince Alfred frowned, mildly offended. "Just because I'm advantaged doesn't mean I can't be sympathetic to those who aren't. I mean hey, we're all people, y'know? It's not like I'm better than anyone else just 'cause I happened to be born a prince."

"..." The figure pulled a piece of parchment out of its robe, looked it over, and leaned back to glance at the numbers above the gate. "Well," It said grudgingly, putting the scrap of parchment away, "this seems to be the correct address. You'll have to do."

"Do what?"

"Nothing, nothing. Do excuse me." The figure flapped a sleeved arm dismissively, and squared its shoulders. "Well, let's start over, shall we?" It cleared its throat. "Now. I could do with some shelter. This storm is really quite nasty."

"Sure thing, buddy!" Alfred stepped forward to throw an arm around the figure's sodding wet shoulders and usher him in, ignoring the fact that his own clothes were getting soaked in the process. "Let's get you warmed up, alright? We'll have our guys show you to a room and we can get you some dry clothes and stuff. Can't have you catching a cold!"

"Yes, do be our guest, eh?" Prince Matthew added, stepping forward to help welcome their guest. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"Well, I must say, that's rather kind of you." Their guest admitted, his robe and cowl dripping rivulets of water as he allowed himself to be led in. "I was expecting to have to spend the night in that weather- that's the way it was supposed to go, you know- and confess I was _not _looking forward to it."

"Well, we'll have you warm and dry in a jiffy." The princes assured, smiling welcomingly. "Just follow Ludwig here, and he'll get you sorted out, and then you can join us for dinner, 'kay man? Let us know if there's anything you need!"

They handed things over to Ludwig, who knew where everything was, and soon their guest was settled in one of the many guest rooms, being dried and dressed and generally pampered by a plethora of servants eager to have something to do and someone to fuss over (the princes were depressingly low-maintenance. They insisted on washing, feeding, and even _dressing_ themselves, and if they wanted something, half the time they'd fetch it on their own. Even Prince Matthew, whom they generally regarded as the more sensible of the two. It made a servant despair, it really did.)

Well, I'm glad we got that all sorted out." Alfred said as the princes returned to their game of chess, trusting their steward to take care of matters from there. "Do you think Ludwig will be able to help the poor guy with those caterpillars attacking his face?"

"I'm pretty sure those were his eyebrows, Alfred." Matthew corrected, setting his bear down and brushing white fur off of his tunic as they walked.

"Not mutant, face-eating caterpillars?"

"Eyebrows."

"Huh. Well, it's a good thing I didn't try to pull them off, then."

* * *

><p>The princes were well into their resumed game of chess when yet again, their steward's distinctive knock alerted them of his imminent entry. Ludwig entered, followed by a baby-faced man whose straw-blond hair the servants had not been able to tame, and whose eerily vivid green eyes seemed to harbour an almost supernatural glow. He appeared no more than a few years older than them at most. "Sorry to interrupt your game again, your majesties; but our guest has expressed a desire to express his appreciation in person before dinner."<p>

"No worries dudes, you're not interrupting much. Mattie sucks at chess, anyway." Alfred grinned, chin in his hand.

"I do not." Mattie protested hotly, squeezing his bear tight in indignation. "I've had you in check twice already, eh?"

"Sure you have, Mattie." Alfred humoured, grin widening as he reached out to ruffle his little brother's hair. "Aren't you just fuckin' adorable."

"Al-"

"Ahem." Their guest cleared his throat, catching their attention. "I, I feel I must apologize. I realize I failed to introduce myself properly, earlier. _I_," with a dramatic pause, he drew himself up to full height (still several inches shorter than the other three in the room, to his private disgruntlement) and gestured grandly, disappearing in a puff of smoke only to reappear in a brief burst of flame in the center of the room; "am an _enchanter_."

"Holy shit that was so cool!" Alfred pointed, flailing excitedly. "That was _awesome!_ Did you see that, Mattie? He does magic tricks! That's so cool!"

"I saw, Alfred." Matthew smiled in subdued excitement, but exchanged a cautious glance with Ludwig as well, intrigued but wary. Both younger prince and steward were aware that magical beings (enchanters, magicians, fairies and the like) were notoriously temperamental. This could turn out very good or very, very bad.

They could only hope that nothing might happen to offend their powerful guest.

"Do you do card tricks?" The prince asked eagerly. "I always liked those. Or oh, oh- pull a rabbit out of...well, you don't have a hat. What other sort of magic tricks do you know?"

"Not _tricks_." Their guest responded, one verdant eye twitching as he tried to suppress his irritation at being mistaken for a lowly _performance artist_. "_Enchantments_. I am an enchanter, _not_ some cheap illusionist who entertains at parties." He sniffed haughtily.

"No rabbits, then?" Alfred asked, disappointed.

"_No._"

"Aw." His shoulders slumped briefly, but he recovered quickly from his disappointment. "Oh well. That fire thing was still pretty cool. So, you got a name, mister enchanter?"

"There are some who call me...Arthur." The enchanter admitted, with another dramatic pause for no real reason at all.

"Well, it's great to meet you, Artie!" Seizing his hand and pumping it enthusiastically, the young prince slapped the enchanter's shoulder in comradery, causing him to stumble slightly, Alfred not knowing his own strength. "You all warm and dry now? Feel up to joining us for dinner?"

"It's _Arthur_." Arthur the Enchanter corrected, trying to shake some life back into his hand. "And, ah, that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. You see, I fancy myself something of a wizard in the kitchen, if you'll excuse the pun," he chuckled,"and if you don't mind, I'd like to cook you all dinner. As thanks, of a sort."

"You really don't have to thank us." Matthew demurred politely. "It's our pleasure to have you as our guest, eh?"

"I insist." Arthur indeed insisted. "It's the least I can do, really."

"It's a little unconventional, but I've never been one for convention." Alfred grinned, hands on his hips. "Go for it! I've never eaten food made by a magician-"

"_Enchanter_."

"-right, enchanter, before." He rubbed his hands together. "Give the cook the night off, Luddy, and show Artie to the kitchen!"

"_Arthur_."

"Right, that's what I said."

* * *

><p>The princes and their steward stared at the...'concoction', was the only term that came to mind... on the table before them. It was thick, lumpy, and green -or was it brown? possible grey- it bubbled, it smoked, and seemed unable to decide whether it was a solid or a liquid. Occasionally it emitted strangled squeaking noises (each privately could almost swear they heard a little, high-pitched voice going, "Help meeee, help meee.")<p>

They glanced up at the flushed face of the enchanter, who seemed too shyly eager to hear their reactions to be trying to poison them.

"What an interesting entree." Prince Matthew said weakly, ever diplomatically cordial. "And what a unique presentation. It certainly gets your attention, eh?"

"Very true, your highness. It, ah, draws the eye." Ludwig supported valorously, taking tactical refuge in polite interest. "What is it called?"

"Well, it doesn't have a name yet." Arthur the Enchanter admitted. "It's my own recipe." He added, with a touch of pride.

"Really, is that so? _My_. I've... never seen anything quite like it." Matthew desperately feigned admiration, playing for time. "You must be very... creative."

"Y-you're too kind." Their guest rubbed the back of his head in modest embarrassment, blushing in pleasure. "I confess I do pride myself on my creativity. I feel that it's one of my strong points."

"Is there a specific way it's meant to be eaten?" Ludwig wondered, watching Prince Alfred prod the mass on his plate gingerly with a fork (slightly alarmed when it tried to poke back). "Any special utensils, or...?"

"No, no, the normal way will suffice." Arthur assured them, gratified that everyone seemed to be so interested in his cooking. "There's no need to hold yourselves back, lads- dig in!"

Smiling fixedly to hide their rising trepidation, Ludwig and Matthew reached for their forks (as slowly as decorum allowed).

Prince Alfred, hitherto engaged in silent exploration of their meal, glanced briefly at the others, then down at the mass on his plate, and shrugged. "What the hell." He said philosophically, spearing the foodstuff with his fork. "Nobody lives forever!"

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The room fell silent, all eyes on the prince as he lifted the writhing mass to his lips, watching in morbid fascination as he chewed curiously, once, twice... then he froze, eyes widening, and Matthew and Ludwig froze likewise, one thought crossing their minds: "_We're **boned."**_

"_Ptoo_! Euuuuuchh!" The crown prince spat the mouthful out with such force that it flew across the table. Unfortunately, this meant that Arthur the Enchanter, having leant forward to gauge the prince's reaction, ended up with a gob of masticated 'creativity' plastered to his forehead.

"Wha-"Arthur gaped, stricken.

"That's _horrible!_ It's so _nasty!_" Alfred wiped his tongue furiously with a napkin. "Holy crap, that stuff is like, _eugh_! And here I thought you were a pretty okay guy, even if you can't do card tricks, and then you go and try and _poison_ me! _Not cool_, man!"

"I, I wasn't-"

"Is it because of what I said about your face? 'Cause dude, it was an honest mistake. You've gotta admit that your eyebrows _do_ kinda look like mutant caterpillars. _Anyone_ could have made that mistake."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Trying to poison me is one thing, but trying to poison my baby bro and Luddy? I can't forgive that!" Alfred stood, slamming his hand on the table. "What did they ever do to you?"

"Now, see here-"

"Who sent you? Why are you trying to kill us? What are you after?" Alfred demanded loudly, cutting across Arthur's attempts to proclaim his innocence, "And holy _crap_, dude- if you wanted to kill us, couldn't you have used a sword or one of those fireball things or, I don't know, _torture_ or something? I mean, trying to feed us this is just _cruel!_ There should be a law against killing people so inhumanely!"

"Right, that's it!" The enchanter snapped, pulling a sparkly, star-tipped wand from somewhere on his person and brandishing it purposefully, "You want tricks? I'll show you some _tricks_. Take that! And that! And a little of _this!_" He flailed the wand furiously, shooting beams of sparkly, multi-coloured light at the crown prince, who, to his frustration, skillfully evaded each attack, ducking or deflecting the beams with a silver platter he snatched off of the table. Soon the room was alive with ricocheting magic, wreaking havoc with everything it touched. Chaos reigned as hapless servants were turned into animals or animate household items by stray magic beams and milled about in confusion; furniture came to life, chairs galloped across the room in alarm, dishes ran away with spoons, leaving scandalized table settings behind.

"Hold _still,_ you idiot!" Arthur the Enchanter ordered, clambering over a frolicking footstool. "This will only hurt a lot!"

"Nuts to you!" Alfred shouted back gleefully as he ducked behind an errant wardrobe, having the time of his life. "Whatsa matter, magicman? Crazy eyebrows make you blind? You couldn't hit the broad side of a castle!"

"Why you little!" The enchanter sputtered furiously. Just then a servant who had recently been turned into a mirror wandered behind the prince's hiding spot, unintentionally leaving Alfred wide open for a surprise attack. Arthur rubbed his hands together, cackling as he gathered his power for his strongest attack.

"Missed me, missed me, now you gotta-"

"BRITANNIA BEEEAAAMM!" Arthur roared, and the room exploded with light.

* * *

><p>"I really am so terribly sorry." Arthur apologized, once the mess had been cleared up and Prince Matthew and Ludwig had been able to calm the situation. "I don't know what came over me, losing my temper like that."<p>

"It's perfectly understandable." Prince Matthew reassured him, glancing over his shoulder to where his brother sat. "It was only a matter of time, really."

"I _am_ a _good_ enchanter, you know." Arthur insisted, distraught over his loss of control. "I really am. It's not like me to..." He gestured vaguely at the mess, and sighed, shoulders slumping. "I really can't apologize enough."

"No, no, it's alright, eh?" Matthew lay a hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly. "Alfred.. has that effect on people." He added wryly.

"...Why am I a clock?" Ludwig wondered, staring at his hands.

"Oh, do excuse me, let me fix that for you." Arthur pulled out his wand, eager to make amends. A brief shower of sparkles, and Ludwig was human once more.

"Ah, thank you." Ludwig patted his chest, checking to make sure there were no residual gears anywhere. "But...why a clock?"

"Can you do that for everyone?" Matthew asked hopefully, glancing around at his transformed subjects.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll put things right in no time." Arthur waved his wand at the chandelier, sending magic prisming throughout the room, and reverting everything to its original state. "There, that should do it."

"And, uh, my brother?" Matthew glanced over his shoulder again to where his brother was rolling on the floor, now, chasing his new-formed tail.  
>"I'm...ah, well...unfortunately, I, ah... can't transform him back." Arthur explained sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You see, the only reason I was able to return everything else to normal was because the spells were meant for him, not them. I'm afraid his condition is... rather more permanent."<p>

"Mattie, Mattie! Look, look! I have claws! This is so fuckin' awesome!" Alfred's voice rang out excitedly. "Ow! Shit!"

"Language, Alfred." Ludwig and Matthew chimed.

"I see." Matthew sighed, returning to his conversation with the enchanter. "Well, at least he doesn't seem to mind it terribly much."

"Hey Luddy, look at this! Every last inch of me's covered with hair! Hahaha!"

"I see it, Prince Alfred." Ludwig answered absently, still engaged in checking himself over to ensure that no clock-like features remained.

"There is _something_ I can do." Arthur the Enchanter offered, magicking up something that looked very like a rock. "This is an enchanted scone." He he held it out to Prince Matthew, who took it gratefully. "If you can find someone to fall in love with the prince before this scone goes stale, and that person eats it, then the prince will return to-"

"Whatcha got there, Mattie?" Alfred wondered, popping up behind his brother to look over his shoulder. "Oh hey! Food!" Before anyone could stop him, he snarfed it up. "OMNOMwraflcrunchcrunchgulp." The prince licked his chops, narrowly avoiding cutting his tongue on his recently-acquired fangs. "Hey, that wasn't so bad! A little stale, though."

"_Alfred_." Matthew sighed, face in palm.

"Oh, dear." Arthur fretted.

"What's wrong?" Alfred wondered, golden-furred ears twitching curiously.

"You just ate your cure." Matthew informed him, exasperated. "You really should be more careful, Al."

"Cure for what?" Alfred asked. "I'm totally fine!"

"You have _claws_, Alfred."

"I know! Pretty kickass, right?"

"Can you make another?" Prince Matthew turned to Arthur, ignoring his brother for the moment.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, but there's only one cure per customer. Union rules, you see." Arthur sighed regretfully. "There's nothing more we can do."

"Oh, well. Thank you for trying." Prince Matthew patted his shoulder in appreciation.

"It's okay guys, I don't want to be cured! This is _awesome_! I can do all sorts of cool stuff now!" Alfred enthused, frolicking around the dining room. "Like this!" He leapt onto the top of a cabinet, and then into the chandelier, swinging briefly among the crystals before doing a backflip off of it, landing neatly on all fours before them. "Tada!"

"Don't play in the chandeliers, your majesty." Ludwig scolded, having finished his personal check-up. "They're very fragile. And what happened to your clothes?"

"They kinda ripped when I transformed." Alfred informed him disinterestedly, climbing the massive castle drapes. "But that's okay. Now that I have fur, I don't need pants!"

Ludwig sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Very well. But at _least_ wear a cape. It's unseemely for a prince to go about completely unclothed, fur or no fur."

"My capes won't fit." Alfred sprawled across the buttresses. "I got big."

"I'll have the royal seamstress make you some new ones. Come down from there so we can get you measured." Ludwig ordered, and Alfred dropped obediently from the ceiling.

"Okay, fine. But I want _swooshy_ capes this time. Those last ones were all drape, and hardly any swoosh at all."

"I'll see what I can do, your majesty."

"Bye Mattie, seeya Artie! We're gonna get me some capes. And thanks Artie- you turned out to be a pretty cool guy after all! _Totally_ forgiven for trying to poison me." Alfred waved a paw in farewell, and turned to follow Ludwig from the room. "Hey Luddy, check it- I got a tail! It's all soft and fluffy n'stuff! Wanna pet it?"

"Ah, yes. I would."

"Well, I guess that's settled." Prince Matthew turned to their guest. "It looks like dinner was ruined in all the excitement. I know we didn't get a chance to try your creation, but why don't I have the servants bring up something to eat, eh? I'm sure you must be famished."

"That does sound nice, but," Arthur responded apologetically, and gestured to the windows, which displayed clear, moonlit skies, the storm having cleared over the course of his visit. "the weather seems to have improved, and there's a frog prince a few kingdoms over that requires my attention."

"Are you sure I can't persuade you to take some refreshment before you go? Some tea, perhaps?"

"That's very kind of you, but I really must be going." Magicking up his cape and cowl from apparently nowhere, he explained as he slid it on,"I've been putting this one off for some time. Not a fan of frogs, you see." He added, wrinkling his nose. "I hate to curse and run; but, a job is a job."

"Alright then. Best of luck. It's been a pleasure having you." Prince Matthew smiled, shaking their guest's hand. "Feel free to visit next time you're in the kingdom, eh?"

"I don't think it's likely, but it's very kind of you to offer." Arthur smiled, and flipped the hood up over his head, obscuring his face. Stepping back, he lifted his wand, and paused, suddenly remembering something. "Oh! I almost forgot- you must make sure that the crown prince doesn't leave the castle grounds. If he does, he's sure to die." He added offhandedly, and waved his wand, disappearing in a puff of rainbow smoke and sparkles.

"Er, what?" Prince Matthew asked, bewildered, but it was too late, Arthur the Enchanter was gone.

And so, from there on out, the kingdom's crown prince was confined to the castle grounds (which wasn't too much of a burden for him, really, as they were actually fairly vast, encompassing quite a lot of fields and most of the surrounding forest, giving him plenty of room to play).

And that could have been the end of that; except, you see, it wasn't- for there's more to the story.

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><p><em>AN: <em>_Inspired by a scene in the next chapter of Educating America (you might be able to figure out which when I get it posted), which grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go until I started writing. _


	2. Makes No Difference Who You Are

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or any of the fairytales/stories referenced within the following bit of madness. **

_Have some backstory! Read it slowly, there's a lot of...stuff._

_This chapter brought to you by the comma, semi-colon, and parenthesis. _

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><p>In a small, provincial town not far from the castle grounds, there lived a merchant by the name of Antonio and his two sons. The eldest was called Lovino, and the youngest was known as Feliciano; which was convenient, because those were, in fact, their names.<p>

Now, although he would have loved them just the same either way, Lovino and Feliciano were not, in point of fact, Antonio's sons- at least, not biologically. He believed they were because many years before his then-husband, Roderich, came home one day from a business trip with the two boys in tow, explained curtly that they would be raising them from then on, and left it at that. Antonio, not being one for keen cogitation, was thrilled, assuming that Roderich had borne children in his absence (despite both the biological impossibility involved, as well as the clear age discrepancy, the children being well into their toddler years). Roderich on the other hand believed that his laconic explanation was enough for Antonio to understand that the boys were his and Antonio's orphaned nephews, whom they were adopting in the wake of their grandfather's mysterious disappearance at sea.

This haphazard communication exemplified their marriage, down to its end- when Antonio took the boys out and left behind a note which said 'Taking our little darlings out for some fresh air, be back soon, besos~!'; which Roderich took to mean he'd taken the boys on a quick jaunt around the garden, and Antonio _meant_ to mean that he was taking the boys on a quick voyage on one of his merchant ships so they could see what daddy did for a living, but what _actually_ meant a year-long merchant voyage followed by 2 years being shipwrecked on a tropical island, eventually rescued, and another year-and-a-half wandering about before they returned home. By which time Roderich had remarried, having long believed them dead. Thankfully, everyone was very understanding about the whole situation. Antonio and Roderich's marriage, while felicitous, had been an arranged one, and though they held affection and regard for one another they'd never exactly 'fallen in love'. Antonio, being a hopeless romantic, was thrilled for his now ex-husband at having found love in his absence, and Roderich, knowing his ex-husband's airheadedness well, forgave him his disappearance with only a swat on the head and an exasperated "You _idiot_." once he'd determined that he and the boys were in good health. Even Roderich's new spouse, Prince Elizabeta (who'd been raised as a prince despite being a woman, due to her parents' firm conviction that her penis would grow in _eventually_), had no objections. In fact she seemed oddly intrigued by the knowledge that her husband had previously been married to another man, to the point of asking if they'd had any portraits done together that she might have, and offering to have some commissioned if they hadn't.

The boys, for their part, didn't care who was married to whom or where they lived, as long as there was pasta.

Which there was.

The five lived together quite happily for some time in Elizabeta's castle. Elizabeta had a grand time commissioning portrait after portrait of her husband and his ex for her ever-expanding gallery, and adored the children, attempting to teach them swordsmanship, hunting, horsemanship, and other gentlemanly pursuits, with dubious result. Roderich picked up their academic and artistic education where they had left off, teaching them to draw and paint, read, write, sing and play a variety of instruments, all of which they were rather better at. Antonio, for his part, taught them to be carefree, take long naps when the sun was hottest, cook and sew, dance and charm beautiful women, which they learned best of all, having been in Antonio's company longest.

In their palace in the capital, Prince Elizabeta's parents, the King and Queen Hedervary, while at first delighted that their 'son' had _finally_ obtained a penis, even if it came attached to Roderich, were slightly less enthusiastic about their heir's rapidly-expanded 'family' and new interest in portraiture. At first they told themselves it was a comparatively harmless example of the quirks every blue-blooded monarchy manifested from time to time, like going barking mad or bathing in the blood of virgins- odd and slightly embarrassing, not to be spoken of in polite company, but certainly well within the bounds of acceptable behaviour for a royal.

However, as time passed and Elizabeta and Roderich had yet to make a contribution to the royal succession, their grudging tolerance wore thin, and their fear for the royal bloodline increased. _Especially_ since Roderich was a proven producer of males- after all, hadn't his previous marriage yielded two healthy young boys? Surely with Elizabeta's help, their son's consort would bring forth strong, vigorous sons to continue their line. So why, they wondered with increasing frequency and alarm, did they have no grandchildren to spoil? No blue-blooded boys to carry on the family line?

It must be, they finally decided, the fault of Roderich's ex-husband. Elizabeta and Roderich had wed believing that he was dead, and to have him crop up inexplicably alive must be causing poor Roderich terrible distress- surely, they felt, it was a lingering sense of obligation to a previous partner that kept the poor thing from being able to perform the duties of a royal consort to their fullest extent. It was no discredit to Roderich, the throes of extreme of loyalty the poor dear must surely be undergoing would undoubtedly rattle a delicate, refined creature as their Eli's little Roddykins. And the prince was so kind-hearted and gallant that he wouldn't press the issue of...well, issue, on his distraught beloved.

The thing to do, they decided, was to remove the source of the problem. Roderich's recently resurrected ex-husband must be removed from the equation. Along with, of course, the offspring- regrettable, but nothing that might stand in the way of their son's heirs could be allowed to remain. Their decision made, the King and Queen signed the order for the immediate execution of Antonio and his sons.

It should be pointed out that there was no malice in their actions, which were motivated first by the desire to see their son happy, with sons of his own; and second, their deeply vested interest in the all-important preservation of the royal bloodline. They had also never met Antonio and his sons- if they had, they would have developed as deep an affection for them as their daughter had (Elizabeta's mother would have especially taken to Feliciano, who had developed a predilection for dressing in women's clothing. She had always wanted a daughter to spoil). Perhaps then they would have acted differently. Unfortunately, it was no longer an option. Now that they'd made a decision, it was too late to change their mind. Once Elizabeta's parents had fixed upon an idea, no amount of evidence to the contrary could convince them that things might be otherwise (example: Elizabeta's fallacious phallus); a trait which made for very effective monarchs, but not always very good human beings.

Luckily Prince Elizabeta was far more intuitive than Roderich and infinitely more perceptive than Antonio, and discovered her parents' intentions before any harm was done. Acting quickly, she gathered her adopted family members together to inform them of the situation. Promising to send for them when it was safe, she and Roderich secretly sent Antonio and the boys to live in the next kingdom over, out of harm's reach; and publicly announced that the three had been killed in an unfortunate hunting accident, to throw the King and Queen off the trail.

Since Antonio and his nephew-sons had to leave with such haste and stealth, they were forced to leave most of their belongings behind, taking along only the coach they travelled in and the horses pulling it, a few trunks full of fine clothing each, a chest or two full of jewels, and but one box of shoes between them. And, of course, the money that Prince Elizabeta had given them (barely enough to purchase more than a moderately-sized mansion at best, but all the prince had been able to scrape together at such short notice without raising questions). Fortunately, the three were used to making do with whatever they could find, and so were content to have escaped with their lives, and some stylish shoes.

Having once been a very successful merchant, Antonio decided to return to this profession in order to provide for his sons during their temporary exile. It quickly became apparent that Antonio's success had been due in large part to Roderich's guidance. In less than a week the money was gone, rapidly followed by the jewels, coach and all but one of the horses.

Realizing that if they let Antonio handle their finances they would soon be naked in the streets, Lovino and Feliciano took matters in-hand. With the money gained by selling most of their fine clothing and the last of Feliciano's jewelry, the brothers hit the open market. In tandem they were an unstoppably mercenary pair. Feliciano's gentle, deceptively airheaded charm and sweet smiles enchanted even the most hardboiled merchant, while Lovino's sharp 'I'm five seconds from snapping and if you so much as _breathe _wrong so help me _God_ you will _rue_ the motherfucking day you were born' stare was so intimidating that the minds of anyone they did business with were muddled with fear and delight. After plundering the markets with personality alone, the cut-throat duo had a small fleet of ships loaded with goods and ready to sail.

As the saying goes, trouble comes in threes. A week or so after their ships had sailed, they received word that their fleet was destroyed, decimated in an unexpected storm at sea.

Selling the last of their fine clothing (including, with great reluctance, their shoes) failed to yield enough money to use for business purposes, but it _did_ leave them with just enough to purchase a little cottage on the outskirts of the aforementioned small, provincial town in the country, so that's what they did, and there we join them.

* * *

><p>Grumbling to himself, Lovino closed the cottage door behind him, on a reluctant mission into town to find his brother, who should have returned from his errands <em>hours<em> ago. How long did it take to pick up some flour and borrow a book from the bookstore, anyway? Well, if it was that idiot Feliciano, it could take all day. He was always getting distracted or lost or cornered, much like their father, really. Lovino was forever having to fetch one or the other from wherever they'd wandered off in the middle of whatever they were supposed to be doing, or rescue the idiots from the clutches of some bastard looking to take advantage of them.

Not that he cared what happened to them or anything. It was just that Antonio was the only one with a steady job, so if Lovino let him get lost then they wouldn't be able to afford to eat. And if anything happened to Feliciano, then nobody would be around to cook for him until Antonio came home from work, and that would be a pain in the ass. Besides, if they weren't around then he'd have to do actual _work_, and that just wasn't worth the peace of mind he'd have if they weren't always getting into trouble and needing rescuing, the stupid idiots.

Anyways, Feliciano was the only one who could charm the bookseller into lending him books free of charge, and on Antonio's wages they were lucky to be able to afford flour for pasta, so without Feliciano there wouldn't be any books to read at all. Not that Lovino really enjoyed the books or anything. He just read them for the swordfights and adventures and stuff, not the true love winning out over adversity or all that shit. In fact, he wouldn't even notice there _was_ romance in the stories if his father and brother didn't like those parts best and make him read them again and again, 'cause they were saps like that. Okay, so maybe he stayed up late reading them to himself by candlelight and kind of sort of knew them all by heart, but that was just so he could let his mind wander while he read them to the others, because he wasn't a sap like they were. Antonio and Feliciano were the ones who got all moon-eyed and dreamy about happy endings, not Lovino, dammit. No warm fuzzies at _all_.

He wasn't a fuzzy sort of person, okay?

And speaking of fuzzy, the damn rabbits were following him again. Argh, the birds too, twittering overhead and generally annoying the crap out of him as always. For some unfathomable reason, animals seemed to like him. And Feliciano and Antonio, too. Everytime they stepped out the door they were swarmed by adorable forest creatures. The other two might think it was cute (he'd even caught Feliciano singing _duets_ with the damn things from time to time), but it unnerved the hell out of Lovino. It wasn't like they _fed_ the bastards or anything. What the hell did they want? They kept _bringing_ him shit, too- like flower crowns or nuts and berries and stuff. Or trying to _cuddle_ him. And no matter how much he yelled at them they kept coming back!

Must be that 'animal magnetism' stuff he'd overheard some of the ladies in town saying that the three of them had.

At least he'd gotten them to stop trying to help with the housework. That was just fucking unsanitary, dammit.

Once he'd shaken the animals, it didn't take long to find Feliciano. His brother sat on the edge of the fountain in the little town square, surrounded by sheep, whom he was singing to in _broad daylight,_ apparently about the book.

"Feliciano!" He barked, pushing his way through the throng of sheep, who happily nuzzled him and nibbled at his clothes. "You bastard, where have you been? I've been waiting _forever!_"

"Lovino!" Feliciano greeted cheerfully, seeing his brother approach. "Ve~, I'm sorry I took so long, but I was talking to Marie at the bakers and then the baker invited me into the back to see his _special_ baguettes and I was going to go but then I remembered you wanted this book so I went to the bookstore instead and there were some ladies there who didn't know what book to get so I told them about the one you read to us last week, about the girl who falls in love with the fairy prince and rescues him from the evil Queen, you remember, the one that was so good that you cried and cried, and-"

"Idiot!" Lovino interrupted, grabbing his brother's wrist and hauling him away from the fountain. "I didn't cry! I told you, I just had something in my eyes, that's all!"

"Ve, but, you cried everytime you read the part where-"

"N-no I didn't! Shut up! Let's just go home, idiot!"

"Ve~, okay~. I got some really nice flour today, I should be able to make very good pasta." Feliciano chattered cheerily as his brother dragged him out of town. "The baker gave me a free upgrade. All I had to do was give him a kiss!"

"_What?"_ Lovino stopped in his tracks, causing his unwary brother to bounce off of him, and spun around, ready to charge back to the bakery."I'll kill him!"

"Ve, ve, just a little kiss, brother! On the cheek, that's all!" Feliciano flung his arms around Lovino to keep him from doing anything silly, like charging back in and burning down any bakeries. "It wasn't anything bad! The baker is a very nice man, ve~!"

"That kind of nice we can do without, dammit." Lovino tried to squirm out of his brother's hold, but Feliciano held on for dear life. "Let me go, bastard! I'm going to tear his fucking face off!"

"Ve, but, if you do that Lovino, where will we buy flour? The baker's is the closest and cheapest place, ve!" Feliciano protested, trying an appeal to reason. "And without the baker, we won't have any pasta! And it was just a _little_ kiss, really!"

"Augh, _dammit_!" Lovino stopped struggling, and stood panting for a few moments. Once he was sure his brother had calmed sufficiently, Feliciano released him. "You're an idiot, you know that?" The elder growled, grabbing his brother's wrist again and dragging him along once more. "From now on when you go into town to shop I'm coming with you, dammit."

"But," Feliciano bit his lip, dismayed. If his brother went along, he wouldn't get _nearly_ as good bargains from the men at the shops, and on their father's wages, it was very difficult to make ends meet as it was. "if you come along then I'll have to pay more, Lovino. The men in town don't like you, ve~."

Lovino's face darkened. It was true. The men in town disliked him intensely, not that he knew why. (He wasn't aware of it, but it was like this- soon after their arrival, both father and sons had the women of the town, from infant to granny, wrapped around their little fingers. This, understandably, invoked a great deal of jealousy from the men; but Antonio was too amiable and clueless to hate, and Feliciano charmed men as easily as women, leaving aloof and prickly Lovino to take the brunt of their resentment.) "Th-that doesn't matter. Did you at least get the right book, idiot?"

"Yes!" Feliciano dug in the basket he carried with his free hand. "And guess what? The shopkeeper said since we liked it so much, we could have it!"

"He did?" Lovino took the book from his brother, flipping through it to make sure Feliciano hadn't damaged it somehow in transport. The corner of one of the pages was a bit soggy where Feliciano had let a sheep nibble at it, but it was otherwise okay. "That was nice of him. We'll have to make a pie or something to thank him."

"I'll pick some berries later." Feliciano agreed. "And you'll help me, won't you?" He addressed one of the bluebirds that had descended upon them now that they'd left town. It landed on his outstretched finger, twittering at him cheerily in obvious agreement. "All of you will!" He smiled happily at the animals frolicking around their feet. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Feliciano, what have I told you about talking or singing to the animals in public?"

"Don't do it 'cause it will make people think I'm crazy and they'll put me in the asylum like the crazy old inventor who owned the cottage before us, who talked to teacups and candlesticks." Feliciano answered promptly. "But, we're not in public now, brother~. We're almost home!"

"You can't be too careful, idiot. You never know when that perverted bastard Sadiq is going to be lurking around, trying to find a way to make one of us marry him." Lovino scowled, pulling his brother closer, as if the bastard in question might leap out of the bushes at any moment to propose marriage at them again. "What if he saw you and threatened to have you committed if one of us didn't accept his stupid proposals?"

"Sadiq isn't so bad." Feliciano, firm believer in the Kindness of Strangers, stated. "I'm sure he's very handsome under the mask. And he smiles alot, ve~."

"Who gives a shit if he's handsome or not." Lovino made a mental note to tell the animals to alert him if anyone suspicious approached his brother. If the little bastards insisted on hanging around, they might as well make themselves useful, and at least _they_ had the animal instincts to recognize a dangerous person when they saw one. "He's rude, and conceited, and his smiles give me the creeps. If you see him, you run the other direction, understand, idiot?"

"But, what if-"

"No 'what if's! Just run, dammit!" Lovino ordered. "Unless you _want_ to marry the bastard."

"No~." Feliciano shook his head, following his brother into the cottage. "He's nice, but I want to marry a prince, ve~!"

"Good, 'cause- wait, what?"

"I want to marry a prince!" Feliciano chirped, setting his basket on the table. "Like in the stories you read us, Lovi!"

"Where are you going to find a prince?" Lovino carefully wiped their new book off before setting it in a place of honour in the small bookcase that constituted the extent of their tiny library. "We're in the middle of nowhere, idiot."

"I don't have to worry about that, silly! It'll just happen, ve~. That's how it works." Feliciano stated with conviction as he tied his apron, preparing to start dinner. "In the stories something always happens to bring the prince and princess together. Like Prince Elizabeta found papa Roderich! All I have to do is wait!"

"...I wish I had your optimism." Lovino shook his head. Then again, if it was Feliciano it probably would work out that way, too. Things always seemed to fall into place for his younger brother. Sometimes it seemed like the whole world fell over itself to make Feliciano happy. Antonio's luck was a little more touch-and-go; their father was given to extremes of fortune. He could start the day flat broke, stumble into a hole filled with jewels on his way out the door, and lose them all in a bad business deal before lunch. It wasn't that their father's luck was bad, Lovino amended, it was just that he was incredibly gullible. Like the time he'd traded their cow for a handful of 'magic' beans, which had tasted _terrible_ and given them all stomachaches. Still, no matter how bad things got for Antonio, they always got better. Like Feliciano, things always worked out for him in the end, even if it took a little longer.

His luck, on the other hand, sucked. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to work out quite the way he'd planned or expected.

"Some day my prince will come~." Feliciano sang happily, waltzing around the table as he gathered his ingredients. "Oh! Brother, I need another egg for the pasta dough. Can you get it from the chickens for me, please? And some more water from the well, I'm almost out."

"Yeah, sure." Lovino took the bucket from his brother and headed out into the yard to do as he was asked. Chickens and goats greeted him eagerly as he entered their little fence, milling hopefully about his feet, and he tossed them a few handfuls of grain from the feed sack before rifling through the chicken coop for eggs. (They'd never actually bought any animals for the cottage. The chickens and goats and the pig that wallowed in the mud hole on the other side of the cottage had just turned up one day, and refused to leave. No-one in town was missing any animals, and the eggs and milk came in handy, so Lovino let it be, chalking it up as another example of that 'animal magnetism' stuff.)

Putting the fresh egg carefully in his pocket, he went to the well and drew some water as his brother had asked, hauling industriously on the rope. When the bucket reached the top, however, he was horrified to see it not only full of water, but also full of frog. And not some tiny, harmless little frog that he might have thought was kind of cute, even if it was a frog, but a huge, monstrous specimen, with giant violet eyes. For a moment frog and boy just stared at each other (Lovino could almost swear the damn thing was _leering_ at him). Then the frog blinked its great eyes, and opened its mouth to croak. "_Pardonezz-moi, mo-"_

"Demon frog!" Lovino screamed, letting go of the rope. The bucket plunged into the well, but the frog leapt just in time to keep from hurtling with it, grasping the side of the well with slimy froggy toes.

"_Mon dieu!"_ Squawked the frog in alarm, pulling itself up to sit on the edge of the well. "_S'il te-"_

"_Aiiiieee_! Get away! Demon frog, demon frog!" Lovino panicked, ready to run. Shit, wait! He couldn't let it get Feliciano! Thinking quickly, he grabbed the metal drinking ladle from where it hung, and knocked the monster frog off its perch. "Begone! I renounce thee, demon frog! Get thee hence, dammit! Avaunt, you slimy little fucker!" He swung repeatedly at the creature, who hopped frantically this way and that, narrowly avoiding termination. "Shit! Hold still so I can kill you, demon bastard!" He attempted to pin it down with a foot, but it was a slippery bastard, in more ways than one.

_"Aidez_-_moi!" _The frog croaked, hopping quickly for the river behind the cottage, Lovino in hot pursuit. "_Merde! Quel désastre!"_ With a powerful leap, it soared off the riverbank to land with a splash in the middle of the river, where the rushing current carried it swiftly downstream.

"And don't you come back, fucker!" Lovino called after it, brandishing the ladle with a victorious huff. _Fuck_ yeah, he'd just defeated a demon frog! Who kicked ass? _Lovino_ kicked ass. Lovino the demon-slayer! Ha_ha_!

Basking in the glow of his victory, he retrieved the bucket, filled it quickly, and went inside.

"I heard screaming." Feliciano commented as soon as he entered. "Is everything okay?"

"It is now." Lovino gloated, chest puffing with pride as he handed Feliciano the egg and set the bucket down near the sink. "There was a demon frog in our well, but I beat the shit out of it and chased it away. Pretty cool, huh?"

"A demon frog?" Feliciano frowned thoughtfully, mixing the egg into the dough. "How do you know it was a demon?"

"It was big and weird and spoke some strange demon language." Lovino huffed and crossed his arms, irritated that his brother wasn't getting impressed. He'd just saved the idiot from a monster! He should be grateful, dammit! "Plus it had weird purple eyes, dammit. Nothing normal has eyes that colour."

"It does sound very strange." Feliciano admitted, then brightened. "You should have kissed it, brother! Maybe it was an enchanted prince!"

Lovino gaped at his brother in horror and revulsion. Kiss that..._thing_? _Fuck _no, even if it _was_ a prince, which it totally wasn't, dammit. _Definitely_ a demon. "I'm not kissing any demon frogs, moron. Besides, it was really creepy."

"Well," Feliciano sighed in regret of an opportunity lost, "if it comes back again, _I'll_ kiss it. Then we'll know if it was a prince or not!"

"If it comes back again I'm going to kill it, dammit. You kiss a demon frog and you get a demon prince." Lovino argued, pouring the water in the pot to boil. "What exactly is the point of that, idiot?"

"Ve~, a prince is a prince." Feliciano shrugged, smiling dreamily. "As long as he's a prince, I don't mind."

"No brother of mine is going to marry a demon, prince or no." Lovino stated determinedly. "Just 'cause someone's a prince, doesn't make them a good person, idiot."

_"My_ prince will be _very_ good." Feliciano assured him, rolling out the dough. "He'll be kind, and strong, and brave, and handsome, and _wonderful,_ ve~. And he'll love me very, very much."

Lovino's lips twitched up in a faint smile. "_Idiot_." He murmured, ruffling his brother's hair fondly. Feliciano grinned at him.

"But no demons." Lovino reiterated, shaking a finger. "Or frogs."

"Ve~, fine." Feliciano wrinkled his nose at his brother. "No demons or frogs."

* * *

><p>"...since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that have been rated the most passionate, the most pure." Lovino read to a rapt and teary-eyed audience. "<em>This<em> one left them all behind." He closed the book, blinking rapidly to clear his blurry vision. "The end."

"That was _wonderful_." His brother sighed. "It's so _romantic_, ve~."

Their father blew his nose noisily, wiping away his tears. "It was so sweet! Especially the part where she realized she'd loved him for so long! I cried and cried!"

"Ve, ve, or the part where he promised he'd always come for her no matter what!"

"Yes! That was great!" Antonio nodded enthusiastically. "Or the part where he brutally slaughtered his father's killer! So amazing!"

"Ve..." The boys blinked at their father.

"Alright," Lovino cleared his throat, getting up from his chair by the fire. "story's over, so you know what that means."

"Awww Lovi, can't he stay for a little bit longer?" His father pleaded, giving his son puppy eyes. "He'll be good, he promises!"

"No, dammit." Lovino frowned, crossing his arms. "The deal was that the turtle could stay until the story was over, and it's over. No wildlife in the house, you know that, idiot."

"Ve, but he's such a nice turtle, he's no trouble at all, really!" His brother added his pleas, plucking the turtle from their father's lap and clutching it in his arms. "Can't he just stay one night?"

"_No_." Lovino said firmly, holding out his hand for the turtle. His father and brother pouted, but handed it over, watching sadly as he carried the animal to the door and set it outside, where it looked up at him forlornly. "Don't look at me like that." He ordered. "You go on, dumbass. You can't stay here. If you did one of these morons will forget you're there and step on you and break your shell and then what'll you do? Just go on, dammit! Shoo!" It reluctantly shuffled off, and he slammed the door behind it. "Damn turtles."

"Oh! I should have kissed him before you threw him out!" Feliciano realized, scrabbling to his feet. "Just in case he was a prince, ve~. Maybe I can still catch him!"

"What? No!" His brother caught him before he reached the door, dragging him away from it. "You idiot! You can't just go around kissing things hoping they might be princes, moron! You'll get sick!"

"Your brother's right. You shouldn't kiss strange things unless you _know_ they're princes." Antonio directed firmly, and then threw his arms wide with a broad smile. "But don't worry, Feli! Daddy can be your prince!"

"Awww, thank you, daddy!" Feliciano crossed the room to fling his arms around their father. "Daddy would make a very good prince."

"W-what?" Lovino flailed, apoplectic, and grabbed his brother, trying to drag him out of Antonio's hold. "No fucking way! Absolutely not, dammit!"

"What's wrong, Lovi? Don't you think Daddy would make a good prince?" Antonio pouted, squeezing his younger son.

"That doesn't matter! It's just not right!" Lovino argued, struggling to pry them apart. "You can't be his prince, bastard!"

"But- oh!" Antonio's face cleared in realization, and he pulled his older son into their shared hug. "Don't worry Lovino~! Daddy can be your prince, too! You don't have to be jealous!"

"I don't need a prince, dammit!" His arms now pinned, Lovino resorted to butting his father with his head, trying ineffectually to escape his grasp. "Least of all you, idiot!"

"Ohh, so you're jealous of daddy, Lovi? _You_ want to be Feli's prince?" Antonio crowed delightedly, squeezing them both tightly in his glee. "That's so cuuute!"

"You can both be my prince!" Feliciano giggled, snuggling closer to both of them, wrapping an arm around his brother's waist and laying his head on his father's shoulder. "You'd both make very good princes, ve~! I'm so lucky!"

"...You're both idiots." Lovino moaned, burying his face in their father's other shoulder to hide his blush, once it became clear that they weren't going to let him go.

"Oohhhh, Lovi's so cute when he's embarrassed, isn't he, Feli? Daddy has such adorable boys! You're both so cute I just can't help myself!" Antonio squealed, releasing them to pinch their cheeks. Feliciano only giggled, but Lovino had reached his limit of nonsense for the day.

"Don't touch me, bastard!" He yelled, slamming his hand in Antonio's face and pushing him violently away. "I'm going to bed, dammit! It's late!" He stomped over to the stairs leading up to the room he shared with Feliciano.

"Wait, Lovi! You forgot daddy's goodnight kiss!" Antonio called after him, rubbing the red mark on his forehead.

"I'm too old for goodnight kisses, dammit!" Lovino objected, but gave in when his father gave him puppy eyes, stomping back to kiss Antonio's cheek, muttering, "G'night. Bastard."

Feliciano pushed up on his toes to press a kiss to their father's cheek as well. "Goodnight, daddy! Sweet dreams, ve~!"

"Goodnight, Lovi, Feli! Sweet dreams, my adorable little darlings~! Daddy will keep the monsters away so you can sleep safe!" Antonio reassured them, waving them off to bed.

"Like that's supposed to make me feel any better." Lovino grumbled as they climbed the stairs. He wouldn't admit it, but it was nice knowing their father was there to fight off any monsters that might crop up, especially when he had to get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. The walk to the outhouse was fucking _terrifying_ at night, where anything could be lurking in the darkness, so the boys always made their father walk out with them and wait outside until they were done (the boys refused to use the chamber pot, feeling that it was disgusting and unhygienic. Some things they _both_ agreed should not be kept in the house). It made them feel safer, even if he _was_ half asleep. There hadn't been any monsters yet, but you never knew.

"_Feliciano_, pull the curtains, dammit. The moon is too bright, it'll keep me up." Lovino complained as he pulled down the covers and climbed into bed.

"In a minute, Lovi. I'm making a wish." Feliciano stood by the window, spotlighted in the bright light of a full moon. He leaned over to tug on his brother's arm. "Come on, brother, you should make a wish too! We can wish together, ve~."

Lovino groaned but did as he was bid, crawling out of bed to stand next to his brother at the window. He stared up at the night sky, where the bright, shining star Feliciano had long ago designated as their 'wishing star' sparkled in the velvet darkness.

"Star light, star bright, hear the wish I make tonight." Lovino watched as Feliciano chanted, eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped earnestly under his chin. "Bring me a prince, wishing star! And help me find true love and live happily ever after!" After a moment, he reached out to tug on his brother's sleeve. "You have to wish too, Lovi!"

"Fine." Lovino grunted, running a hand through his hair and glancing out the window. "I guess I wish-"

"You have to say the magic wishing spell, brother!" Feliciano corrected. "You have to say 'Star light, star bright, hear the wish I make tonight', or it won't come true!"

Rolling his eyes, Lovino chanted in a monotone, "Star light, star bright, hear the- This is silly, Feliciano." He complained, slapping a hand over his face to hide his blush. "I feel like an idiot, dammit."

"You _have_ to make a wish, Lovi!" Feliciano insisted. "If you don't make a wish, how can it come true?"

"But I don't know what to wish for!" Lovino frowned. He never did, no matter how many times Feliciano made him do this stupid ritual. Unlike Feliciano, who always knew exactly what he wanted to wish for, and usually got it, too. The prince thing was new, though. When they were younger it had been stuff like painting supplies or shoes or a new ball to play with, little things that were pretty easy to grant. Still, Lovino wouldn't be surprised if some shiny asshole on a white horse came riding up to carry Feliciano off to some castle sometime soon. The only thing he could think of that _he_ wanted was tomatoes. Fresh ones, not the dried ones imported from the next kingdom over, that cost half of Antonio's weekly salary for a damn pound. Tomatoes just wouldn't grow around here, dammit. Wrong climate, or something. But it seemed a stupid thing to ask a star for.

"Well, then I'll wish for you." Feliciano decided, as he always did, and turned back to the star. "Star light, star bright, this is brother's wish! Bring brother true love, too, so he can live happily ever after, all of us together!"

"Can we go to bed now?" Lovino whined, embarrassed and cold in the chilly night air of their room.

"Mhm!" Feliciano pulled the curtains shut, and the brothers climbed into bed, snuggling next to each other under the covers for warmth. "Ve~, I hope I dream about my prince tonight."

"Just as long as you don't wake me up." Lovino yawned, waiting for his brother to stop fussing with the covers. "Now be quiet, I'm trying to sleep, dammit."

"Okay~." Feliciano agreed, head pillowed on his brother's shoulder. "Goodnight Lovi. Sweet dreams~."

"Sweet dreams, idiot."

And so the brothers slept, blissfully unaware that the answers to all their wishes were closer than they knew.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm sure you recognized the references. In case you didn't, I should point out that the line Lovino read was a direct quote from 'The Princess Bride'. Next chapter: Things get moving! Finally. Man this thing is way longer than it ever should have been. <em>

_Come to think of it, my brothers used to wake me up in the middle of the night to walk them to the bathroom, and make me stand outside the door and talk to them so they would know I was there, and so I would know if any monsters tried to get them. That must be a pretty common kid thing, 'cause chibi Romano makes Spain do the same thing in Spain's 'Day in the Life of the Boss' drama CD. One of the few times I've empathized with Spain. Not that I ever minded doing it, but man sometimes it was hard to stay awake while on monster-patrol. "Yeah, m'still here *yaawn*. No m'nsters. Y'alm'st done?" _


	3. Winds of Fortune, or Fate?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing! Except the stuff I own, which is not included in this disclaimer. And doesn't include Hetalia, which is. **

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><p>Lovino awoke to the sound of his brother's voice. He cracked an eye open to see Feliciano sitting on the edge of the bed in his nightgown, brushing his hair as he sang, having obviously recently woken up. "A dream is a wish, your heart makes~, ba-da-dahm~" Odd that Feliciano was up before him, Lovino thought sleepily, and closed his eyes for just five more minutes, listening to his brother hum and sing as he performed his morning ablutions. "dadada- oh, thank you!- keep believing, the dream that you wish will come truuue~!" It was actually kind of peacef- ...wait. 'Thank you'?<p>

The unmistakable sound of a bird harmonizing with his brother's song made Lovino open his eyes, dreading what he was about to see.

It was worse than he'd thought. Birds hopped around on his brother's pillow, and fluttered around the pitcher and bowl that held the water they used to wash their faces in the morning. Mice- _mice!- _crawled around on the clothes they'd laid out the night before to wear today, for some reason sweeping at them with feathers they inexplicably held in their tiny paws, like utterly pointless brooms. As he watched, a squirrel industriously polished their shoes with a fluffy tail.

He sat up with a growl. "_What_, exactly, is going on here?"

"Good morning, Lovi~!" His brother greeted with a bright smile. "Guess what? I dreamed about my prince last night!"

"Never mind that," Lovino was not to be distracted, "what do you" he gestured to include the birds and other beasts in that pronoun, "think you're doing?"

"You said they could sing with me in private." His brother reminded him, setting the brush on the bedside table.

"_Sing_, yes. But what the hell is all," he waved at the general activity of the room, "_this_, dammit?"

"Ve~, well," Feliciano had the grace to look vaguely guilty, "they're helping me get ready, brother~."

"That's what I thought you were going to say." Lovino rubbed his forehead, trying to stave off the headache that he could feel coming on, and turned to address the animals. "What did I tell you bastards about helping out around the house?" The little birds shifted from one leg to the other, avoiding his gaze. The mice clutched their feathers nervously. The squirrel gazed up at him with wide eyes, holding its tail close for extra security.

"But brother, they're just trying to help! I think it's sweet." Feliciano leapt to their defense, smiling encouragingly at the assorted wildlife.

"Sweet or not, it's _unsanitary_, dammit. Look at this." He directed their attention to the waterbowl the birds had been perching on. "_Look_ at this." Feliciano and the birds peered inside the bowl, where little white bird droppings floated at the bottom. "We can't wash in this now. We're going to have to clean this out and get some fresh water before we can use it again." Embarrassed, the birds hid their heads under their wings.

"Oh, well, I'm sure they didn't _mean_ to-"

"And this!" Lovino threw aside the covers and stood, crossing the room to where the mice sat on their clothes for the day. "You see this?" He pointed out the little brown mouse pellets scattered over their shirts and trousers, and a telltale dark spot or two that betrayed the rodents' inadequate bladder control. The mice lowered their ears, shamefaced. "These were clean, dammit! Now we'll have to do laundry today!"

"Ve~." Feliciano gnawed his lip, dismayed.

"What were you even _doing_ on our clothes, bastards?"

"They, they were trying to brush them off. The dust and lint and things." His brother explained, wringing his hands. "But, I'm sure they'll be very careful from now on, Lovino~."

"Feliciano, they're _incontinent_." Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "They can't control themselves, moron. They're _animals_. And _this_." He picked up one of the shoes. "This..." he paused, looking it over. It shone like a mirror. "Well, this is pretty good, actually. You did alright." He said to the squirrel with grudging approval, and put the shoe back down. It smirked smugly at the other animals, tail puffing with pride. "But aside from that, this is a _mess_, idiot brother of mine. We had a deal." He addressed the room, hands on his hips. "You can sing with my stupid brother _inside_ the house, and help with the chores _outside_ the house. Take it or leave it, bastards. If this happens again, I'm taking away your singing priviledges. Understood?" Ears, tails and wings twitched and fluttered, in general beastly expressions of acquiescence. "Alright. Now shoo." The squirrel chittered at him questioningly. "Yes, you too, bastard. You did good, but you still broke the rules, dammit." It deflated, tail drooping.

"Ve, but brother, they can stay and sing with me, can't they?" Feliciano protested.

"After this mess? Hell no. This is your punishment for breaking the rules. No more singing today." Feliciano and the animals blinked at him pleadingly. "D-don't look at me like that! You knew the rules, dammit! Go on, get out!" He pointed to the window, and the mice and birds began to file out, heads drooping sadly. Feliciano's lower lip trembled. Lovino threw up his arms, relenting. "_Chigi!_ _Fine_, dammit! If you're extra good, you can come back and sing with Feliciano while he makes dinner. But no sooner than that, bastards!" Chirping and squeaking their thanks, the creatures fled, knowing better than to press their luck.

"Thank you brother~." Fetching fresh clothes out of the dresser, Feliciano smiled when his brother only grunted in response, knowing he'd be singing with their little friends by lunchtime. His brother tried to be strict like papa Roderich, but he was even more softhearted than daddy Antonio, and wouldn't be able to hold out 'til dinnertime. "You slept late this morning." He observed, handing Lovino his clothes. "You're usually up before I am."

"Ngh." Lovino grunted, accepting them with a nod of thanks. "I didn't sleep for shit. Weird dreams."

"Ve~, really? What did you dream?"

"I don't know, _weird_ shit." He had a vague memory about talking to someone who was sometimes a man, sometimes some bizarre creature, all fangs and fur and shit, shifting randomly back and forth during their conversation. It had seemed perfectly natural at the time, in the way strange things did when you were dreaming. "Probably something in those potatoes you made me eat, dammit."

"You didn't even eat a whole potato, Lovi. You barely had two bites, ve~." His brother reminded him. "You really should try to like them. They're the only thing that grows in our garden besides carrots and herbs."

"I don't like what I don't like, bastard, and potatoes are _disgusting_." He ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it into place. "You and 'Tonio can have 'em. I'll stick to pasta and tomatoes, even if they're _dried_ tomatoes."

"Alright." Feliciano sighed, tying his own hair back with a handkerchief. "Well, I had _wonderful_ dreams, ve~. Guess what? I dreamed about my prince!"

"Yeah?" Lovino slid on his shoes, admiring the shine. Not bad for a squirrel. He might even let the little bastard do their shoes on special occasions, like festivals. "Alright. What's he look like?"

"Mhm! I don't remember _exactly_, but I know he was pale, and blond, and so, so kind. And tall! And very, very handsome, ve~. We danced in moonlight, in a beautiful garden under the stars. " Feliciano clasped his hands, smiling dreamily into space. "We were _so_ happy."

Che, figured. Feliciano dreamed about a handsome prince, and he dreamed about some mangy fuzzball. "Good for you, then. I'm going to go wake up dad and make sure he gets ready for work. You get started on breakfast, and then clean up this mess your little friends made, dammit."

"Roger!" Saluting, Feliciano pattered out of the room to do as he was bid, and their morning routine began.

* * *

><p>"Boys, boys!" Lovino was sprawled in the shade of a tree, reading and listening to Feliciano hum as he hung the laundry to dry in the afternoon sun, when their father came running up the path to the house, excitedly waving a letter above his head. "Wonderful news!"<p>

"Ve~, you're home very early, daddy!" Feliciano remarked, balancing a basket of wet laundry on his hip.

"...You didn't get fired, did you, bastard?" Lovino closed his book, carefully marking his place.

"No, no. Don't worry, I didn't get fired." Antonio waved dismissively, and proferred the letter with a broad smile. "Daddy quit, but that doesn't matter, because Daddy will never have to work again, and my babies will live in a beautiful house and be waited on hand and foot and have anything their little hearts desire! Tomatoes, Lovi! We'll have the freshest, sweetest tomatoes, and our little Feli will wear the prettiest dresses and we'll all have the most stylish shoes money can buy!"

The boys stared at their father. After a moment, Lovino turned to his brother. "Feliciano, the idiot's got heatstroke again. Get the bastard inside and get some cold water from the river, and I'll call the doctor."

"Ve~, okay, brother!" Feliciano set the basket of laundry down and took Antonio's arm to lead him inside. "Come on daddy," He coaxed kindly. "Once you've had some rest you'll feel better, and we can talk to your boss-"

"No, no! Daddy doesn't have heatstroke. Not this time." Antonio insisted, waving the letter he held. "Look at this! A messenger brought this today, while I was working. It's a letter from one of daddy's old friends from his merchant days. It's good news! Our ships survived the storm! We're rich!"

The boys exchanged a cautious glance, scarcely daring to believe their father's words. Taking the letter from his father, Lovino read it over.

Antonio told the truth. The letter, a message from one of their father's oldest friends in the merchant business, explained circumstances in detail. Their ships, although severely damaged, had survived the storm, their cargo miraculously intact. Their journey had been considerably slowed due to said damage, they had eventually managed to make it to their destination. By that time the cargo had appreciated considerably in value (party due to the fact that many, many ships had been destroyed in the inclement weather), and after a few months' delay to affect repairs, the ships had returned, bursting at the seams with treasure.

There was a catch- though the ships had returned well over a year ago, Antonio hadn't left a forwarding address when they'd moved, and so none of the dock officials had known how to get word to the family that their ships had arrived. Not that they'd tried very hard, since if the ships and cargo went unclaimed for two years, the law of the land said that the property would default to their ownership. Luckily, Antonio's friend had recognized the ships when he'd sailed into the harbour after his own business trip, looked into the situation and sent copies of the letter to every town and village in the surrounding kingdoms, hoping one would reach his friend before the deadline. By the time the message had found him, Antonio had less than a week to make it to the harbour and claim the ships and cargo before time ran out. Unfortunately, this meant the boys couldn't go with him, since they only had the one horse, and even riding hard the journey would take at least four days.

Antonio left that very afternoon.

"Ve~, now remember, daddy: When you get the money, you must-"

"Put it directly into the bank, except for a few gold coins to cover travel expenses, I know." Antonio recited the instructions his sons had spent the last 3 hours drilling into him as they prepared things for his journey.

"That's right. Very good, daddy!"

"And what else, bastard?" Lovino prompted from where he was double-checking the horse's tack to make sure everything was secure and their father wouldn't slide off and break his neck due to a loose buckle or strap. Not that that was likely to happen— Antonio was a gifted horseman, but Lovino wasn't taking any chances.

"Um...I'm not to stop to talk to anyone along the way until the money's safely in the bank, even if they say it's important, or they lost their puppy, or they say it's an _amazing_ once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, not to be missed, very special deal just for me because they like me so much."

"Good." Lovino nodded in gruff approval, patting the horse's nose. "Don't forget it, idiot." The boys exchanged a cautiously hopeful glance. They were a little...well, okay, extremely reluctant to let their father do this on his own, knowing his unreliability in business matters; but under the circumstances there was little they could do about it. After all, the ships and cargo were under their father's name, so their father had to be the one to sign for them. They'd done the best they could to prepare him, and now it was all up to Antonio.

"Don't worry!" He assured them, swinging easily into the saddle. "Nothing will go wrong. Daddy will get there in plenty of time, and take care of business. I'm very reliable, you'll see!"

"Ve~, okay, daddy. I've packed you plenty to eat on the way, okay? Make sure you wrap up at night, and keep warm! It would be bad if daddy got sick." Feliciano leaned up for a goodbye kiss.

"Don't talk to strangers." Lovino instructed. "And go straight there and come straight back, understand? If someone gives you food, don't eat it, and if anyone tries to get you to go somewhere with them alone, don't do it, I don't care how nice they are. Understand, bastard?"

"Don't _worry_, Lovi! I'll be perfectly fine!" Antonio insisted, patting his horse's neck. Then he hesitated. "I was thinking- your birthday is coming up soon. Since we have so much money now, wouldn't you boys like me to pick you up a present while I'm there? Something nice for your birthday?"

The boys exchanged another glance, weighing each other's thoughts on the matter. Well...a _little_ present couldn't hurt, right? After all, it was an _awful_ lot of money, and their father _did_ seem to understand how important it was to be very careful. Rapidly each decided on their present.

"A dress! I want a dress, daddy!" Feliciano turned back to their father and bounced excitedly, clasping his hands. "I want the prettiest dress, in silk and lace, and a fan! So I have something to wear when my prince comes for me!"

Antonio pressed his hands to his cheeks, overwhelmed by the mental image of his youngest in a pretty dress of silk and lace. "Ahhhh~! So cuuute! You'll be so cute, Feli! Of course, daddy will get his baby the prettiest dress _ever~_! So cuuuute! No prince will be able to resist!" He fawned silently for a moment, lost in thoughts of his little Feliciano floating around in a dress. After he'd recovered somewhat, he turned to his eldest son. "And Lovino? Do you want a dress, too?"

"A tomato." Lovino ordered automatically, not having heard their exchange, lost in visions of fat, juicy, fresh tomatoes. "The biggest, reddest, sweetest tomato you can find. I want a fresh, ripe tomato, bastard."

"That does sound delicious." Their father agreed, wiping a little drool from the corner of his mouth. "Alright, I'll do that. I'll get the best tomato ever for my little boy!" He spurred the horse, galloping down the lane. "Goodbye, boys! Daddy will be back soon, just you wait!"

"Bye daddy, we'll miss you!"

"Don't do anything stupid, bastard! Be careful, dammit!"

They watched him go, until even the dust kicked up by the horse's hooves was no longer visible. Finally, Feliciano sighed. "Ve~, well...I guess we'd better go inside. It'll be dark soon."

"Yeah." Lovino turned to follow his brother inside. Just before they reached the door, though, he stopped, slapping his forehead. "_Shit!_"

"What? What's wrong, Lovi?" His brother asked, alarmed.

"I should have asked for a whole _box_ of tomatoes, dammit! _Chigi!_"

* * *

><p>"Prince Alfred." Ludwig approached his regent, who lay sprawled across the parapets, staring into the distance. "Prince Alfred!"<p>

"Hm?" Alfred's ears twitched, and he looked over his shoulder. "Oh. Hey, Luddy."

His steward frowned in concern. "Prince Alfred, are you quite alright? I've been looking for you everywhere. It's time for your bath."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Alfred responded absently, having returned to his previous activity. "Just...thinking."

"A dangerous pastime, your majesty." Ludwig said gravely, coming to stand next to him. "Especially if one is unaccustomed to such exersize."

"Ass." Alfred snorted, butting his head against the other's shoulder. Ludwig's lips twitched as he reached up to scratch the prince behind an ear.

"What's on your mind, your majesty?"

"Just thinking about this dream I had." Alfred's voice grew distant, even as he leaned into Ludwig's touch. "It...I don't know. Something about it stuck with me. You know what I mean? Kind of like...deja vu, or...I dunno. Like a memory of something that's going to happen. Does that make sense?"

"No." Ludwig answered readily, stroking the prince's thick fur. "Not at all." Alfred sighed, laying his head on his paws with a forelorn expression, his tail tapping the stone of the parapet.

"Still," Ludwig admitted after a few moments, "I must confess I...I do know what you mean. I, also, had the most...unusual dream. It...made a similar impression on me."

"Yeah?" Alfred perked curiously. "What'd you dream about?"

"I..." Ludwig coloured, shifting awkwardly, to Alfred's keen interest. Ludwig almost never lost his composure. It must have been some dream. "I...it's...a little embarrassing."

"Now I _gotta_ know." The prince grinned toothily, fangs gleaming in the afternoon sun. "C'mon Luddy- I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." He winked.

Ludwig coughed into a fist, and looked away. "It...I...well, there was this...person...and I, _we_ danced-"

"_You_? _Dancing_?" Alfred's eyes widened incredulously. "No way!"

"It was just a dream, your majesty." Ludwig said stiffly, and drew himself up, withdrawing his other hand from the prince's fur to clasp both behind his back. "An involuntary succession of images and sensations with no quantifiable purpose or meaning."

"Aw, don't be like that, Luddy." Alfred dropped from the parapet to wind around his friend apologetically. "I'm sorry, I wasn't making fun of you, honest. I just- in all the time I've known you, I've never seen you dance. Like at balls and stuff. And you always turned me and Mattie down when we asked you. I figured you just didn't like it."

"I neither like it nor dislike it." Ludwig frowned, admitting, "It's simply that I'm not very good at it. I just don't seem to have the knack."

"Huh. Really?" Alfred cocked his head. "Weird. I can't really imagine you being bad at anything. You always seem to have your shit figured out."

"Language, your majesty." Ludwig said automatically, cheeks flushing at the compliment. "But...thank you. Are you ready for your bath, now?"

"Yeah, sure." Alfred paused, head turning to gaze thoughtfully into the distance once more.

"Your bath, your majesty." Ludwig reminded.

"Yeah. It's just...I can't shake this feeling. Like something's coming." His tail twitched pensively. "Someone."

Ludwig followed his gaze, his own eyes growing distant. He had to admit he'd been feeling something very similar since he'd awoken, after the dream which kept interrupting his routines with lapses of daydreaming, which were beginning to worry him. It was just a feeling, irrational, unsupported by any facts, and therefore it was inexcusable to allow it to interfere with his work. "Perhaps we're coming down with an illness." He murmured, grasping for a rational explanation. "Or perhaps it's the full moon. It has been known to influence psychological and behavioural patterns, on occasion."

"You might be right." Alfred shook himself, and stretched, claws flexing. "Can you do me a favour? Can you send someone to the greenhouse to check on our tomatoes?"

"If you wish." Ludwig agreed, shaking his own head slightly head to clear it. "It'll be another week or so before they ripen, I believe."

"I know. I just have this feeling they'll come in handy." Alfred padded towards the door, Ludwig following close behind. "Hey, wanna play catch after my bath?"

"I'd like that very much, your majesty."

"_Seriously_ Luddy, would it _kill_ you to call me Al?"

"I don't think I should take the risk, your majesty. After all, what would you and your brother do without me if it did?"

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><p><em>AN: Ludwig's right. The castle would just fall apart without him. Dust. Everywhere.<em>


	4. Made Entirely Out of Matchsticks

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Or a lot of other stories referenced in here, but thankfully most of them are now in the public domain. For those that aren't, consider them disclaimed. By myself.**

_I'm workin' on it, workin' on it!_

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><p><em>The curséd prince slid silently through the forest, a bad-assed shadow of sleek fur and wicked fangs, eyes gleaming malignantly in the darkness- a creature of nightmares. A hundred years of living under the burden of his curse; a half-life, a <em>_**cursed**__ life, had transformed him. Shunned by those he'd once counted friends, abandoned by his own kin, he was destined to be forever alone. Betrayal and loneliness had made him bitter, twisted. Neither animal nor man, now, but monster, through and through._

_The denizens of the forest fell silent before his passing, frozen under a blanket of terror- for to attract his notice meant agonizing, unholy-_ _Hey_, _what's that?_

On his way home from playing in the forest, the crown prince's inner-monologue was derailed when he noticed a body lying crumpled not far from his destination. Concerned, he loped up to check it out. As he drew near he could see that the body was human, male, alive, and as far as Alfred could determine from a distance, simply sleeping. He didn't smell any blood (he'd noticed that he could do that a while after he'd gotten his new body, which was pretty fuckin' sweet) or anything else that might indicate that the dude was wounded, but that didn't rule out internal injuries. "Hey, dude!" He called out once he was within hearing distance. "DUDE! Can you hear me, man? You alright? HEY!_"_ The man stirred a little, but didn't awaken, and so Alfred waited until he was close enough to nudge his shoulder with a paw. "Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey, man, you alright? Hey!"

With a groan, the man batted listlessly at his paw. "Not now, boys. Daddy will play with you after siesta, 'kay?" He muttered in his sleep, and rolled over, draping an arm over his face to block out the light.

Alfred blinked. "What?" A gentle snore greeted his question. He glanced around. They were just off the path that went past the castle gates. The footprints in the dust leading up to this spot were obviously this guy's, but no sign of a horse or cart or carriage, so he must have walked here. Which was a pretty long walk, Alfred knew. The closest town was about half a day's ride west of the castle, on the far side of the forest. The footsteps were coming from the opposite direction, and the only town east of here was a port town along the coast, about a week's ride away. If this guy had walked all the way here from there, it would have taken _forever_. It was no surprise that he was tired. Still, this was an odd place to sleep. Maybe he had a concussion? He nudged the man's shoulder with his muzzle, shaking him repeatedly. "Dude. Dude. Wake up! You shouldn't sleep here man, it's dangerous. There are a lot of wild animals around here, y'know. You might get eaten, which would suck, trust me. Hey. Dude. Wake up!"

"But I'm so tired..." He yawned, opening his eyes to see the hulking form of the crown prince hovering over him. He blinked, sleepily, and rubbed his eyes to clear them. Nope. Giant monster still there. He sat up with a sigh, too tired to panic. "Are you going to eat me?"

"Hahaha, no way!"

"That's good." The man nodded. "My boys would be very upset if I was eaten. They told me not to do it under any circumstances."

Alfred nodded too. It was sound advice. "They sound like smart kids. My name's Alfred, by the way, but you can call me Al." He proferred a paw in greeting.

"Antonio." Said Antonio, shaking his paw. "Nice to meet you." He yawned again, and lay back down, pillowing his head on his arm. As his eyes drifted shut, he murmured, "You're a very cute monster, Alfred...ver'... c'te..."

"Hey, man, don't fall back asleep! Antonio! Hey 'Tony!" Alfred nudged his shoulder again, shaking him awake. "Wake up!"

Antonio sat up, again, and rubbed at his eyes, again. "But I'm so tired...I've travelled so far..." His stomach chose that moment to growl, loudly, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach with a groan. "So hungry, too...I haven't eaten in _days_."

Alfred made up his mind. "Here, climb on." He directed, settling down on his belly next to the other. "I'll take you home with me, and we can get you something to eat and you can sleep in a nice, soft bed, okay?"

Antonio frowned, drowsy and doubtful. It sounded good, but..."Lovi told me not to let strangers take me home...or to.. go anywhere...with someone...alone..."

"That's good advice, but I'm not a stranger, right? We're buds!" Alfred reassured him. "And we won't be alone, either— there's lots of people back at the castle."

Antonio nodded. Sounded safe to him. He climbed sluggishly onto Alfred's back, wrapping his arms as far as they could go around the furry neck, and lay down with a contented sigh. "So soft..."

"Hang on, 'Tony. We'll get you to bed in a jiff." Alfred rose, padding smoothly towards the castle so as not to jostle his passenger. "What were you doin' way out here, anyway?"

"'S a long story..." Antonio stifled his yawn, nuzzling into Alfred's ruff. "I'll tell you...when I wake up..."

"Haha, alright. I'll wait!"

* * *

><p>"Prince Alfred!" Ludwig barked, spotting the crown prince in the entryway. He folded his arms, face stern. "You are <em>late<em>-"

"_Shhhhhh_ Ludwig!" Alfred whispered loudly. "You'll wake up Tony!"

"'Tony'?" Finally noticing the man sprawled on the prince's back, the steward blinked in surprise. "Ah. This is an unusual variation on your hunting pattern. Has your highness decided to expand your repertoire to include humans?"

For a moment Alfred just stared at him. "Yes, Luddy. I've decided to become a maneater." He deadpanned finally. "You'd better start locking your door at night."

"Thank you for the warning." Ludwig said, straight-faced. "Although, I should inform you that the cooking staff is unlikely to be willing to assist in the preparation of your new dietary choice."

"Aw man, you mean I gotta eat 'im raw?" Alfred complained plaintively. "That sucks."

"That would be one of the options open to you." The steward's lips twitched slightly.

"You can't eat me." Antonio reminded him, opening one eye. "My babies would get mad."

"Oh, right." Alfred turned to Ludwig. "I can't eat Tony. His kids made him promise not to get eaten."

"Ah? Very good advice." Ludwig approved, clasping his hands behind his back. "Their foresight does them credit."

"My babies are the smartest and wisest and most beautiful and adorable and sweetest and cutest children ever." Antonio agreed, closing his eyes. "They're going to be very angry with me when I get home..."

"Yeah? Why?"

"After siesta..."

"Oh, right. Sorry Tony, got sidetracked. Luddy, can you help me get Tony into bed, and then get him something to eat when he wakes up? Poor guy's all tuckered out and half-starved."

"Your wish is my command, your majesty." Ludwig turned to lead the way to one of the guest rooms, Alfred following at his heels.

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that, Luddy. Makes me feel like I'm your master, or something. It kinda creeps me out."

"It is, however, inherently true." Ludwig informed him matter-of-factly. "As your subject and servant, it is my duty to obey your commands, regardless of their nature, or even my own feelings on the matter. I am, if you'll pardon the expression, slave to your every whim and desire. You are, in fact, my master."

"..." They walked in silence for a moment, the only sound that of Ludwig's boots clicking purposefully on the marble floor. "Okay," Alfred started, pensively, "so...what if I command you not to obey my commands? Y'know, like, be your own master, instead."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, your majesty."

"You _can't_?"

"No. I cannot disobey your commands."

Alfred licked his nose, flicking an ear perplexedly, "But, wouldn't refusing to disobey my commands be disobeying my command?"

"No." Ludwig halted in his steps to open the door to the guestroom he'd selected for their guest. "By refusing to obey your command to disobey your commands, I would, in fact, be obeying your command."

Together they eased Antonio off of Alfred and into the bed, where Ludwig tucked him in. Leaving their guest to his rest, they exited the room, closing the door softly behind them, and walked together down the hall. "My I ask how you came across your new...friend, Prince Alfred? 'Tony', was it?" Ludwig inquired, keeping his voice low so that the echoes wouldn't disturb the person in question.

"Oh, sorry, I should have introduced you. His name's Antonio. I found him sleeping on the road a little way from the castle." Alfred explained.

Ludwig blinked. "On the _road_? What on earth was he doing sleeping in such a place?"

"Well, I think he's pretty wiped. He said he hasn't eaten in days." His tail twitched in time with the clicking of Ludwig's boots. "I get the impression he's hit some hard times. He said he'd tell the story when he wakes up."

"I see. Then I look forward to his return to consciousness. Did you enjoy the rest of your excursion?"

"Oh, yeah, it was awesome. I found a little cave down by the swimming hole that I hadn't noticed before. The entrance was blocked by a bunch of rocks, but I managed to dig it out. It's a pretty neat little cave. You should come see it sometime. We could camp out! You and me and Mattie, if we can get him to come too."

"That does sound like an enjoyable experience." Ludwig admitted.

"Hey, Luddy?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"About what we were talking about. Earlier. The whole 'commands' thing." His ears flickered back and forth, broadcasting his discomfort."I don't-"

"Ah- I apologize, your majesty," Ludwig stopped in his tracks, raising a gloved hand apologetically to interrupt the prince's speech. "but I'm afraid I must go and see to the preparation of our guest's meal. Especially if, as you mentioned, he hasn't eaten for some time. If you will excuse me, your highness?"

"But-"

"I would be happy to discuss any concerns you may have at a later date." Ludwig said smoothly, clasping his hands behind his back. "However, our guest's comfort is a priority, wouldn't you agree?"  
>"Yeah. I guess." Alfred sat down, curling his tail around his paws. "We'll talk later, then?"<p>

"If your majesty wishes." Bowing, Ludwig turned and strode briskly down the hall, leaving the prince staring after him. "Oh, and Prince Alfred?" Ludwig halted in his escape to call back over his shoulder.

"Hm?"

"It occurs to me that if your majesty has been digging in the dirt and exploring strange caves, your highness will most likely require a bath."

"Uh.." Alfred replied sheepishly, suddenly aware of the dirt caking his underbelly and paws. Fuck, there was even some on his whiskers. How had he missed that?

"Aha." He could smell Ludwig's knowing amusement from here. "Then after I have attended to our guest's needs, I'll draw a bath for you. It should be ready in about an hour."

"Alright." Alfred sighed. "But could you make sure it's warm this time? Last time it was freezing."

"It would have been warm if you were there on time, Prince Alfred."

Alfred stuck out his tongue, knowing that even though Ludwig wasn't facing him, he'd know Alfred was doing it.

* * *

><p>"Sit <em>still<em>, your majesty." Ludwig admonished again, for what seemed like the umpteenth time, struggling to keep the prince from squirming while he was brushing his fur.

"I'm _trying_, but it hurts and _tiiicklessss."_ Alfred whined, trying hard not to squirm as the brush tickled his ribs and tugged at his fur. "Be _gentle_ with me, Ludwiiiiig."

Exhaling frustratedly from his nose, Ludwig reached down to tug the prince's ear. "_If_ you hadn't spilled all the conditioning liquid in your attempt to pounce on me during your bath, you wouldn't have so many knots in your fur and I _wouldn't have to get rough with you_." After a pause, he remembered to add, "Your majesty."

"I could go and roll in the puddle of conditioner." Alfred offered hopefully, wincing as Ludwig worked another knot out of his fur.

"Your majesty." Ludwig said with strained patience, trying to brush his prince out without leaving him with bald patches, "One; you are already dry. If you were to roll in the conditioner, we would have to rinse you again, which would mean that we would have to dry you again, and _we are out of towels_, because you decided that _pouncing_ on me while I was carrying a stack of fresh towels and you were soaking wet would be a good idea. There were barely enough towels left to dry us off as it was. And even if we _did_ have enough towels, I for one have no desire to spend another 2 hours drying you off _again_. Two, I have already cleaned up the spill, so there is no conditioner left to roll in."

"I wish my winter coat would hurry up and shed." Alfred complained. "This would go so much faster."

"Your winter coat does seem to require more maintanence." Ludwig agreed, smoothing down the prince's now knot-free belly and moving on to his neck, "However, despite that, I must confess that I find it aesthetically pleasing."

Alfred turned his head to stare up at him, not sure if he'd heard right. "...what?"

"Don't squirm, your majesty. I'm almost finished with this spot." Ludwig directed, a light blush dusting his cheekbones.

"You think I'm cute!" Alfred grinned toothily, laying his head on Ludwig's lap. "_You think I'm cute and fluffy!_"

Ludwig blushed deeper. "Your-"

"Excuse me," They looked over to see Prince Matthew standing in the door, looking slightly confused, "I was just informed that our guest has awoken, and is ready to see us? I didn't know we had a guest?"

"Oh, sorry Mattie!" Alfred struggled to his feet, turning to face his brother. "I brought a guy home. I found him on the road, asleep and half-starved, and so I figured he could stay with us. He said he'd tell us what happened when he got some rest. I forgot to tell you, sorry."

"I see." Matthew nodded in understanding, used to his brother bringing home strays. "Then, I'll take care of things until you're finished here. Join us in the dining room when you're ready, eh?"

"'Kay!"

"Thank you, your majesty." Ludwig nodded to the younger prince, reaching out to grab Alfred by the scruff as he started to head for the door. "His highness and I will be down as soon as we _finish getting out these knots._"

"Alright." Matthew grinned, amused, and turned to go. "I'll keep our guest entertained until you arrive. Have fun, eh?"

"C'mon, Luddy. Can't we do this later?" Alfred's ears drooped in his version of a pout.

"You are not going anywhere until you've been thoroughly brushed." Ludwig responded, pushing him down and resuming his task with businesslike efficiency. "I will not have my crown prince wandering about the castle and entertaining guests looking like he's got _mange_."

"But you still think I'm cute." Alfred replied smugly. "Ow! Shit!"

"I apologise, your majesty. That was a particularly difficult knot." Ludwig said, managing to keep a straight face.

A little while later, sleek and well-brushed, both steward and prince joined Prince Matthew and Antonio in the dining room, where Antonio regaled them with his story.

"...and then they made me their chief." Antonio finished explaining to his rapt audience. "I'm afraid I was very, very drunk."

"Well, that explains everything quite clearly." Ludwig said, to the princes' wholehearted agreement. After a brief, whispered conference with the brothers, the steward rose from the table. "I'll begin preparations for your family's accommodations immediately. I trust the east wing of the castle will be sufficient?"

"I'm sure we can make do." Antonio stated with amiable philosophy. "I just hope my babies won't be angry with me."

* * *

><p><em>AN: <strong>Edit: <strong>People keep asking what Beast!Alfred looks like. In my head? Google 'Red Panda'. Give it golden fur and blue eyes, and make it a little bigger than a tiger, and you're there. _

_I think by now it may be clear that not only do I like to stack my references, but also puns and wordplay in general. I like to make words **work** for me. Why bother with one meaning when I can squeeze out three or four? _

_You may not catch all the references in here, but that's okay, I had fun with it. If you do, you're both very well-read and very well-travelled. And possibly a xenophile. _

_Then again, you never fail to impress me, which is why you've claimed a piece of my heart. _


	5. I Made it From Curtains

**Disclaimer: Hetalia, I don't own it, and this is crack, such crack. **

_Read the disclaimer. Also, a lot of short scenes ahead. Kind of a short chapter, come to think of it._

* * *

><p>"Where <em>is<em> that idiot?" Lovino muttered, too perturbed to bluster as he twisted his pasta around and around his fork. Not that he was worried or anything. So their father was almost a week late returning home, so what? The idiot had probably just...gotten distracted, or something. Or forgotten that he was supposed to come back, and was waiting in town wondering why the boys hadn't arrived yet. Lovino was almost certain the stupid bastard hadn't fallen off the dock and drowned, or been mugged or kidnapped or drugged or eaten by wild animals or Frenchmen or-

"I'm sure he just got delayed, Lovi." Feliciano interrupted his increasingly distressing train of thought to put a brave face on things. "You know how officials can be, ve~. Daddy probably just had to prove who he is before he could collect our property." Lovino noticed, though, that he was fiddling idly with his pasta as well, their dinner almost untouched.

"Yeah, maybe." He grunted noncommittally. "But I'm not waiting any longer. Tomorrow morning-"

"We'll go and find him." His brother agreed, rising from his seat and collecting their untouched plates. "Let's clean up the kitchen, and then we can start packing, okay~?"

* * *

><p>"You all packed, idiot?" Lovino poked his head into their shared room less than an hour later, having finished his own preparations. His brother's bags sat on the bed, fully packed, while the boy himself spun around the room wrapped in the curtains he'd pulled from their bedroom window. "...What are you doing?"<p>

"Ve~, I was thinking," Feliciano answered pensively, twirling back and forth and watching the curtains fan out around his legs, "what if I meet my prince on the way to get daddy? I should have a dress, don't you think? Just in case?"

Lovino paused, leaning against the doorframe. "...A dress made from curtains?"

"Why not?" Feliciano lifted one to veil the lower half of his face rather becomingly, and glanced over at his brother through deep brown eyes. "It suits me, don't you think, brother~?"

Lovino pursed his lips thoughtfully, eyes narrowed as he assessed the image. "Alright." He decided finally, and his brother clutched the curtains to his chest, delighted, "But not _just_ the curtains. You can see right through them in sunlight, and anyway there's not enough material there for a gown. Go get the good tablecloth and the sewing kit, and I'll have a look at these sheets, and we'll see what we can do."

"Yay! Thank you, brother~!"

"Wait." Lovino hesitated, testing the sheets between his fingers as he considered something. A good dress would take at _least_ a day to make, and if they were going to leave in the morning they needed all the help they could get to finish in time. He didn't like it, but he had to admit there was only one way he could think of to speed the process. With a reluctant sigh, he strode to the window and flung it open, leaning out to address the creatures he knew would be gathered below. "Alright you bastards, listen up! You'd better come on inside. We've got a job for you."

* * *

><p>Lovino arched his back with a groan, stretching sore muscles. It'd taken most of the night, and now dawn edged the horizon outside, but they'd done it. Dress <em>and<em> slippers, thank you very much, which he'd realized Feli would need about halfway through their work on the dress, because a gown without the appropriate footwear was Not To Be Thought Of. You might as well be _naked_. Feliciano's little buckled shoes were very cute and stylish, true, providing a very flattering lift and showing the turn of his ankles off nicely, but they were _entirely _unsuitable to wear with this dress. And since it turned out little paws and wings were ridiculously ineffectual when it came to shoemaking, he'd had to make the slippers himself. He'd left the little squirrel bastard from before in charge of the dressmaking effort while he worked on the footwear, 'cause anyone who could polish shoes like that could be trusted not to fuck things up.

Though he had to admit, the mice had turned out to be remarkably good at sewing. Very tiny stitches. He'd been impressed.

And it had all been worth it. If they ran into any princes on their journey -and knowing Feliciano's luck, Lovino was sure they would- Feliciano was _sure_ to get their attention. His little brother's Happily Ever After was just a matter of time. Lovino huffed inwardly in satisfaction, hands on his hips.

Which only served to remind him how sore and tired he was. Ugh, he would _kill_ for a cup of coffee. Too bad it hadn't been invented yet. Sometimes he hated living in the dark ages.

"Alright!" He announced, clapping his hands together sharply and startling the assembly of drowsy animals into attention. "Thanks, you little bastards. You were a big help. You can help yourselves to the pie in the pantry, and there's cookies in the jar on the counter. Make sure everyone shares," He ordered the squirrel, who straightened importantly, puffing with pride at its newfound authority, "and since I don't know how long we'll be gone, you guys might as well have the stuff in the garden, too."

"Ve~, what are we going to do about the chickens and goats?" Feliciano wondered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Who's going to feed them while we're gone, brother~?"

Lovino frowned. That was a good question, actually. Maybe they could leave the gate open...?

A loud knock at the door distracted them both temporarily. Lovino strode over to it, flinging it open without, unfortunately, bothering to check who might be outside. "_Ugh_." He remarked upon sight of their caller, and tried to slam the door shut. Equally unfortunately, the persistent asshole was too quick, and got his foot in before Lovino could manage it.

"Hello, boys." Sadiq greeted with his usual arrogant grin, undaunted by this less-than-enthusiastic reception. He thrust the door open wide, striding inside to bellow, "This is the day when all your dreams come true!"

"What do _you_ know about my dreams, fuckwad." Lovino growled, backing away. "_And don't address me so familia-"_

"Plenty!" Sadiq advanced, his arrogant grin the only part of his face visible under his ever-present mask, "I-"

"Brother, look! There's a carriage coming up the path!" Feliciano exclaimed excitedly, bouncing up and down as he looked out the window. "Oh! OH! It's daddy! Daddy's back! And he's got a HUGE axe!"

Lovino rushed to the window, pushing his brother aside to peer anxiously outside. He closed his eyes briefly in relief, then turned to his brother. "That's not an axe, idiot, it's a halberd. But you're right. It's pretty fuckin' huge."

"Hm." Their guest came to look, folding his arms as he stared at the approaching carriage, and the glint of the sun on the razor edge of the weapon. "You're right. That _is_ pretty big." He rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "Y'know, I just remembered Heracles is supposed to be making vasilopita today. I'd better go before it's all eaten up. I can't wait to see his face when I steal it off his windowsill!" He turned, waving over his shoulder as he headed for the backdoor. "Seeya later, boys! I'll fulfill your dreams next time we meet!"

"Ve~, I thought vasilopita was only made on New Year's." Feliciano wondered, brows furrowed.

"Who gives a fuck, idiot." Lovino rolled his eyes, pulling his brother towards the door. "Let's just go see what took this stupid bastard so long."

* * *

><p>"I can't <em>believe<em>- did you even _try_ to remember any of the things we told you, idiot?" Lovino growled from his seat in the corner of the carriage, face firmly planted in his palm. "What did we tell you about strangers-"

"But Alfred isn't a stranger, Lovi!" Antonio protested, sprawled across the seat on the other side of the carriage, polishing the head of his halberd. "He said so!"

"He sounds pretty strange to me, bastard." Lovino muttered, unappeased. "Some guy who wanders around the forest doing who-knows-what, picking up innocent travellers and inviting them to live with him in his castle way out in the middle of nowhere? That sounds pretty damn suspicious to me."

"Ve~, but, he _can't_ be a bad person, brother!" Feliciano interjected, carefully arranging the skirts of the dress his brother had made him so he'd have something to wear when he met his prince. "Daddy said Alfred's a prince! He's _sure_ to be good if he's a prince."

"And Al has tomatoes, Lovi! A whole greenhouse full of tomatoes. He said we can have as many as we want! Just think of it!"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember the tomatoes." Lovino glanced out the window, surrepticiously wiping a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth. He still wasn't sure if he could trust that what his father said was true- a whole greenhouse _full_ of tomatoes!- but the temptation of tomatoes was the only damn reason he'd agreed to this whole thing. Fresh tomatoes, after so long...

"They're _very_ good tomatoes, Lovi. So big and juicy and red and delicious and-"

"Alright, alright, dammit!" Lovino slapped his hands over his ears, driven to distraction at the thought of plump, ripe, perfect tomatoes. "There are tomatoes, I got it! I'm in the damn carriage, aren't I?"

He threw himself back in his seat, opening the book he'd brought to read during the drive, flipping idly through the pages. The others beamed at him, interpreting his actions (somewhat correctly) as tacit approval of their venture. He frowned at a page, brows furrowing, and looked up. "You still haven't told us what happened to the money, bas-"

"Look, boys, look!" Antonio exclaimed, leaning out the window. "There it is! There's our new home!"

"Ve~, let me see! Let me see too, daddy!" Feliciano and Lovino both rushed to the window, leaning out next to their father to see the shining white spires of the castle towering above the treetops.

"Oh, it's so beautiful! Isn't it, brother?"

Lovino had to admit that it was.

"Not long now, boys! Another fifteen minutes or so and we'll be at our new home, and daddy will introduce you to Alfred and Matthew and Ludwig, and all the beautiful tomatoes! You're going to be so happy here, I know it!"

"Ve, ve, ve, so many princes!" Feliciano wriggled in his seat, ecstatic.

"Well, I'm not sure, but I don't think Ludwig is a prince." Antonio said, tilting his head in thought.

"But Alfred and Matthew are princes, right daddy?"

"Yes, Al and Matthew are very nice princes. Ludwig is a little scary, but daddy's sure he's very nice too, once you get to know him. The princes seem very fond of him."

"Isn't it great, Lovi? There's a prince for me and one for you!"

"I don't need a damn prince." Lovino dismissed instantly. "You can have them all, for all I care. I'm just in it for the tomatoes."

"Ve~, okay!"

"Oh, but there's so much more than tomatoes!" Antonio exclaimed, as they pulled back into the carriage and resumed their seats. "There's big, soft beds and beautiful gardens and fine horses, Lovi, and an _amazing_ armoury with the _sharpest_-"

"Tomatoes." Lovino insisted. "That's all I need to- _what the FUCK?"_

Something large and heavy landed on the top of the carriage, rocking it, jostling the three inside.

"Ve, ve, ve," Feliciano cried, dismayed, and clung to the cushions with his brother.

They screamed when a huge furry head popped in the window, upside-down, and bared its fangs. "He-!"

"Oh," Antonio began.

"Monster!" Lovino screamed, hurling his book with all his might. It struck the creature hard on the nose, which was apparently very sensitive, because it yelped and toppled off the carriage to land in the road with a thud.

The carriage screeched to a halt.

"Your majesty! Are you alright?" The servant driving the coach called out, thrilled to have a speaking role.

Feliciano lit up. "Ve~, 'your majesty'?" He scrabbled to his feet, all fear forgotten with those two magic words, and leaned out the window as far as he could go.

"Lovino, what has gotten _into_ you?" Antonio scolded, deeply disappointed in his eldest son's behaviour. "That was not cute at all!"

"What?" Lovino gaped, bewildered at this turn of events.

"No excuses! Daddy's very upset! Now come and apologise, Lovino!" Carefully placing his halberd on the seat, Antonio threw open the carriage door with one hand and took Lovino's arm with the other, pulling his too-confused-to-resist son onto the road. "How could you do something like that to poor Alfred?"

"_That_'_s_ Alfred?" Lovino balked, staring at the gigantic creature lying on the road ahead, paws over its nose. _That_ was Alfred? His father let that _thing_ take him _home?_

"Who else would it be?" Antonio replied, causing Lovino, not for the first time, to question his father's sanity. Antonio called out to the thing in concern, "Alfred, are you alright? I'm very sorry about that!"

"Hey Toni!" The creature sat up on its haunches, and briefly wrinkled its nose. "My nose is a little sore, but I'm okay!"

"Holy fucking shit!" Lovino screamed, trying to back away, "It talks!"

"_Lovino_." His father reprimanded sternly. "You are not being very cute at all, today!"

"I totally do!" Alfred agreed, unfazed by the reaction. "I talk alot. So you're Lovino? Nice arm you got there, buddy! I'm Al." He held out a paw in greeting. Lovino regarded stared at it, noting the massive size and deadly-looking claws, and ducked to cower behind his father.

"Lovino!" Antonio protested again, fruitlessly. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to Alfred. "I'm sorry, Al. I don't know what's _wrong_ with him today! Lovi can be a little aloof sometimes, but he's not usually so rude to friends!"

"It's okay, Toni, I probably surprised him. I _can_ be intimidat- _choo!_" Alfred sneezed, violently, causing all his fur to stand on end. He shook himself out, and sniffed, before continuing, "I'm a pretty scary guy sometimes, y'know?"

"Ve~, are you an _enchanted_ prince?" Feliciano asked, having followed his brother and father to peer hopefully at Alfred. "A _real_ one?"

"Yep!" Alfred affirmed cheerfully, and Feliciano beamed, moving closer. "I'm totally cursed! How did you-_mph!"_

Lovino leaned out from where he crouched behind his father's leg to see his brother _kissing _the _beast_. His mouth dropped open. Was the whole world _insane_?

"Uh, wow." Alfred said, when Feliciano finally pulled back, and licked his lips, ears twitching uncertainly. "You're uh, a whole lot friendlier than your brother, there."

"Ve~, it didn't work." Feliciano's brows furrowed in consternation. "Why didn't it work?"

"Well-" started Alfred.

"Maybe I just have to kiss you harder!" Feliciano decided, and lunged forward again.

"No!" Lovino bolted out from behind Antonio to tackle his brother, hauling him bodily away from the creature (taking care not to dirty his dress, though- that had been a _lot_ of work), enchanted prince or no. "What did I tell you about kissing strange things, idiot? You don't know where he's been!"

"In the trees, mostly." Alfred offered helpfully. "I was waiting all morning for you guys to show up."

"Now, Lovino. You _did_ say our little Feli could kiss enchanted princes." Antonio reminded his eldest.

"Yeah, but-"

"And I _have_ to kiss him, brother! To lift the curse! Like in the stories you read us!"

"But-"

"It won't work," Alfred contributed matter-of-factly. "Mattie and Luddy already tried. Besides, the dude who cursed me said only this nasty biscuit could cure me, and I already ate that."

"Ve, but, aren't they princes too?" Feliciano, expert in enchanted-prince-curse-lifting, argued. "And you're a prince, so you have to be kissed by a _princess_ for it to work."

"Maybe, but-"

"If you already ate the cure, bastard, why are you still cursed?" Lovino challenged, unconvinced.

"'Cause _I_ wasn't supposed to eat it, I was supposed to get someone to fall in love with me and make _them_ eat it." Alfred explained. "But that would be pretty mean, I think. It was _gross_. Like licking old shoes. Besides, I don't _want_ to be cured. This is awesome!" He stretched theatrically, extending his claws and fluffing his tail, displaying what he considered the incontrovertible _awesomeness_ of being cursed in this fashion.

"There, you see? He doesn't want to be cured, idiot." Lovino scolded his brother. "So no more kissing, understand?"

"Ve~, okay~." Feliciano agreed, pouting a little. Once Lovino released him, he smoothed out his skirts, and turned to smile at the prince. "It's very nice to meet you, Prince Alfred. Is your brother a cursed prince, too?"

"No, just the normal kind. Y'know, charming 'n'stuff." The cursed prince answered. "And you guys can call me Al, okay? I'm not a big fan of titles."

Feliciano giggled. "Okay, Al!"

"Now that we've got the introductions over with," Alfred rose, shaking himself like a dog, "whattya say we head to the castle? Everyone's looking forward to meeting you!"

"Okay~!"

"Yes. Let's hurry!"

Feliciano and Antonio answered in unison, turning to hurry back to the waiting carriage.

Lovino followed slowly, wondering what they'd gotten themselves into, and whether or not he'd be able to get them out, this time.

"Oh, hey! Lovi, right? Hold up!" The (apparently genuine) prince called from behind him, and he turned warily to see him trotting up with something in his mouth. His book, he realised, as Alfred drew closer. The one he'd thrown earlier.

He took it gingerly from the prince's jaws, relieved to see the cover free of drool or teeth marks. "...Thanks."

"No problem!" Alfred bared his teeth again, an action which, now that he was a little calmer, Lovino could recognise was intended to be a smile. "Wouldn't want you to lose that, right?"

"...I suppose." It was his favourite, actually, and he would have been very upset later when he'd realised it was missing, but this weirdo didn't need to know that, prince or not. He resumed his trek to the carriage.

"You like books?" Alfred wondered curiously, padding alongside him.

"Lovi _loves_ books!" Feliciano answered for him, hanging out of the carriage window to see what was taking so long.

"You do? That's great!" Alfred said. "There's a big library back at the castle. _Tons_ of books. You should totally check it out!"

"...You have a library?" Lovino asked, interested despite himself.

"Yep! It's right next to the garden, actually, so it gets lots of sun, too. Plenty of light to read by. Not much of a view, though, 'cause the greenhouse is right outside. Unless you like looking at tomatoes, that is." He joked.

Lovino nearly dropped his book. "You have tomatoes right next to the library?" He asked faintly. Then, the more important question, "You _really_ have tomatoes?"

"Yep! Lots!"

"Tomatoes and books, Lovi! You'll be in heaven!" Antonio laughed, leaning out of the window next to his brother.

"Books for brother, princes for me, and sharp weapons for daddy." Feliciano clasped his hands to his chest, sighing happily. "Isn't it _wonderful_?"

"So, you guys ready to go?" Alfred asked eagerly, tail switching back and forth in excitement.

"You bet, Alfred!"

"I am, ve~!"

The three turned to Lovino, waiting expectantly for his response. He hesitated, thinking. Cursed monster princes with deadly fangs and claws, and who-knew-what else; but also, tomatoes. And Books. Tomatoes _and_ books; and of course, _tomatoes_.

He swung up into the carriage, nodding. "You had me at 'tomatoes'."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Um. I don't remember what I was going to say. It was a long night at work. Um. I, uh... *clears throat* *shuffles off awkwardly*<em>


	6. If I Know You, I Know What You'll Do

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, nor any of the other fairytales, stories, nursery rhymes and suchlike referenced within (most of which lie in public domain, however; and thus are fair game).**

_Another shortie chapter, because a week in which I don't post **something** is a sad, sad week indeed. _

* * *

><p>"HEY, MATTIE! LUDDY! THEY'RE HERE!"<p>

"Are you sure that bastard's a prince?" Lovino asked doubtfully, watching the furry creature bound excitedly across the courtyard, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"He does have a castle, Lovi." His brother pointed out, gazing delightedly at the object in question. "And his brother's a prince, too."

"Of course Alfred's a prince, don't be silly." Antonio agreed, stepping down from the carriage. Handing the halberd to the servant driving it, he ushered his sons towards the waiting castle doors, "Now boys, I want you to be on your best behaviour when you meet Matthew and Ludwig. Feli, I know I don't have to worry about you; but Lovino, don't hit any more princes, or daddy will be _very disappointed_."

"How was I supposed to know he was a prince." Lovino muttered defensively. "Looked like a big hairy thing with teeth to me."

Neither his father nor his brother payed any attention, though, too absorbed in the excitement of the moment. Not that Lovino could blame them. He was a little excited himself. Sure, they were living with a cursed prince and who-knew-what else in what could quite possibly be a cursed castle, but he'd been promised tomatoes and books, and that was worth a little cursing.

Just so long as he didn't run into any talking clocks or worse, _candlesticks_. He shivered at the thought. He wasn't sure why, exactly, but those things had always creeped him out.

The crown prince was waiting for them inside the doors, sitting on his haunches. He rose when he saw them, flicking his tail excitedly. "I don't know where everybody is," he said, a little puzzled. "we weren't expecting you back 'til this evening though, so they might be in the garden." He turned to lead them along.

"Oh, is it tea time already?" Antonio asked.

"Not quite, I think? But, Mattie's got practice." Alfred explained, looking back over his shoulder as he walked just a little ahead. "There's a tournament coming up, y'know, just a friendly between the princes of the surrounding kingdoms, so he's training to represent Alfredia. Normally I would be doing it," He added, leaping up onto a side table and padding along the top of it alongside them, stepping carefully over candlesticks and expensive vases, "but, I can't this time. So, this is Mattie's first time participating. He's a little nervous, but I'm sure he'll do fine!" He leapt down from the cabinet, twining himself between Antonio and Feliciano. "But between you and me," He added, lowering his voice confidentially, "Prince Hedervary's gonna kick his ass. Fucker fights like a _tiger_, I'm not kidding. Had _me_ on the ropes last tournament, and that's not easy to do."

"Why can't you participate?" Feliciano asked, playing with the prince's ears and ruffling his fur. "Is it because you're cursed?"

"Yes and no," Alfred rubbed up against Feliciano's side, enjoying the attention, "since it's a tournament between princes, they sorta have to make allowances for being cursed. It's one of the hazards of being a prince. You just get a handicap. But-"

"Oi, stop that!" Lovino pushed himself inbetween the beast and his brother, batting the mangy furball away from Feliciano. "You're getting fur all over his dress, bastard!"

"Ohhh." Feliciano exclaimed in consternation, realising his brother was right, and busied himself brushing the golden hair from his skirts.

"Oops, sorry." Alfred apologised, scooting over to the other side of Antonio, lowering his head sheepishly. "I keep forgetting I'm shedding my winter coat."

"It's okay, Al. Honest mistake." Antonio patted him reassuringly. "Feli can clean it off, don't worry!"

"Yes, don't worry, Al." Feliciano smiled kindly, brushing the last of the fur off the front of his dress. "See? It came right off!"

"Augh, you've got it all over your back." Lovino fussed, brushing at it. Feliciano twisted his head around to try and see over his shoulder.

"Is it coming off, brother?"

"It came off the bodice okay, but this stuff on the skirts is different." Lovino frowned, picking at it. "It's like, long and silky. The other stuff was all short."

Alfred laid his ears flat, looking guilty. "I'm sorry, that's from my tail. The fur's longer and silkier there. It...tends to stick to things." His ears perked as he remembered, "Oh! But, we can stop in Ludwig's office on the way, he has a special brush that gets it off of clothes and upholstery. It's just right up here a bit."

"We can try it." Lovino agreed, frowning at the twisted mass of fur coating his brother's skirt. "This dress took _forever_ to make, dammit, and I don't want to see all my hard work ruined by a glorified fuzzball."

"Lovi, be nice." Antonio chided. "I'm sure the dress will be fine."

"You _made_ that?" Alfred asked, impressed.

"Brother made it for me so I would have something to wear when I meet my prince." Feliciano beamed proudly. "And the slippers, see?" He lifted his skirts and stuck out a foot, displaying the matching slippers. Alfred poked his head closer for a better look, and nodded, pulling back.

"Holy shit, that's pretty impressive." He commented, properly impressed. "I used to be able to make lots of stuff, out of wood and metal and stuff, but nothing like that." He paused to paw at the handle of a door, joking, "The only thing I can make in this body, though, is holes and hairballs." He laughed, a funny chuffing, growling noise. It took him a few tries to get the knob to turn, but finally he pushed it open. "Hang on, this is Luddy's office. I think he keeps the brush in his desk. I'll be right back."

He trotted out a few seconds later, holding the brush in his mouth. "Hher it ish. Thry dhat."

Lovino took the brush, holding his brother in place with a hand on his shoulder while he worked on the back of the dress.

"Ve~, is it working?" Feliciano asked, straining to see.

"Don't squirm, idiot." Lovino ordered, tilting his head as he examined the results. "Yeah, it seems to be doing okay. There's still a few spots though, hang on." He brushed furiously at the dress, until all the hair was gone. "There." He huffed, satisfied. "All good."

"Ve~, thank you!" Feliciano smiled happily, twirling his skirts around in relief.

"Just keep it clean, idiot." Lovino answered, handing the brush back to the prince. "And _you_ stay off of his dress, got it?"

"Wodgah, caphn." Alfred answered, disappearing into the room to put the brush away.

"Let's go to the garden!" Antonio insisted amiably, herding the younger members along the corridor now that everything seemed to be straightened out. "Come on Alfred, you too!" He gestured for the cursed prince to catch up and join the group."We want the whole family together, now!"

"Oh, what a lovely garden!" Feliciano exclaimed delightedly as they stepped into the sunlight. Lovino's eyes widened in surprise, and he murmured appreciatively.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Antonio beamed, happy his sons were happy. And it was. Bright and airy and skillfully laid out, by someone with an expert eye for colour and flow. The boys felt instantly at home.

"Mattie designed it." Alfred said proudly, equally delighted in their delight. "He loves this sort of thing. We collaborated on the labyrinth, though, but that's on the other side of the garden. You can't see it from here."

"Ve~, where's the prince?" Feliciano wondered, glancing around curiously.

Alfred listened intently, head turning this way and that, ears twitching as he searched for sound of his brother. "Ah!" He said, ears perking. "There! They're over there."

"Ve, ve, ve~," Feliciano grasped his brother's wrist, tugging on it. "How do I look? Am I pretty? Am I ready to meet my prince?"

"Idiot." Lovino rolled his eyes. "Who cares about that sort of thing? You look fine."

"My babies are _always_ beautiful." Antonio assured him, smiling widely.

"Yeah, you look great to me." Alfred piped up, eager to get on with finding the others.

"_Honestly_, Lovi." Feliciano stepped back, running his hands over his dress to smooth it into perfection, and spun in a slow circle. "Do I look okay?"

"Daddy thinks your beautiful, baby. Don't you believe daddy?" Antonio pouted.

"Daddy _always_ thinks I'm beautiful." Feliciano waved dismissively, watching his brother anxiously. "But Lovi won't lie to me."

"_Argh_." Lovino ruffled his hair, embarrassed and frustrated, and threw his hands in the air. "_Fine_. If it'll get you to shut up." He walked slowly around his brother, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he scrutinised the picture his brother made. He fussed with this and that, tucking in a bit of lace here, smoothing out a ruffle there, fixing the part in his brother's hair. "...You look alright." He said grudgingly after a few minutes of this, and Feliciano smiled. "Just a second! It's missing something." Lovino raised a finger, and glared at the surrounding shrubberies. "Here." Her leaned over, plucking a miniature rosebud from a nearby bush, its blushing petals just starting to open. With great care, he wove it into his brother's hair, just above his right ear. "_There_." He stepped back, nodding in satisfaction. "Now you're _beautiful."_

Feliciano touched the flower in his hair carefully, and _beamed, _face shining brighty enough to rival the sun overhead. "Thank-!"

"I, I only did it so you'd shut up!" Lovino cut him off, flushing deeply. "And don't try and hug me, idiot!" He ordered, forstalling his brother's next move. "You'll wrinkle your dress, and all my hard work will be wasted! And what are _you_ smiling at, idiot?" He pointed accusingly at his father, recognising the signs of an oncoming display of deeply embarrassing paternal affection, "Don't look at me like that! It's just 'cause I don't want to hear him whining all day, got it? And what are you all standing around for! Don't you have some stupid prince to meet, dammit? _Chigi_!" He flailed, stomping down the path ahead of them, grumbling all the way.

"He's pretty excitable, huh?" Alfred mused, watching Antonio's eldest son bluster down the path. "What does 'chigi' mean, anyway?"

"It's a family name." Feliciano explained dazedly, walking on air in the wake of his brother's rare praise. "We're descended from the royal House of Chigi on our grandfather's side."

"Oh." Alfred walked on the other side of the path, Antonio between him and his youngest son. After all that fuss, he was pretty sure the hissy one would kill him if he got any more fur on the friendly one's dress. That, or internally combust. "So, why did he shout 'Chigi'? That's a little weird. Does he do that alot?"

"Oh, well -" Feliciano started to explain, but stopped; eyes widening, mouth agape, mesmerized by the sight of a white horse that came sailing over the shrubbery a few paces ahead of them, bearing on its back a golden-haired prince.

The world slowed down for Feliciano, a series of slow-motion moments: the horse prancing in place in the pathway ahead, tossing it's snowy mane - the prince in the saddle, leaning forward to calm the animal, sun shining in the pale gold silk of his hair, gleaming off the tasteful satin and velvet of his clothes, surrounding him in golden light- the prince looking up, catching sight of them, kind, violet-coloured eyes lighting in welcome- perfect coral lips parting in an easy, gentle smile, lighting his devastatingly handsome face as he calling a greeting- the prince slipping from the saddle, broad-shouldered, _so_ tall, movements smooth and graceful as he led the now-calm horse down the path towards them- this was it! His prince was _finally_ here. All his wishes were coming true.

"...and this is Feliciano." He realised his father was speaking, introducing him to the prince, and he held out his hand as his father continued, "Feli, this is Prince Matthew. He's very nice!"

"You're even more lovely than your father described." Prince Matthew smiled, and bowed low over his hand, brushing his lips feather-light across Feliciano's knuckles."It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Feliciano."

"Oh, we've met before." Feliciano smiled coyly, gazing up at the prince through artfully lowered lashes.

"Eh? We have?" Prince Matthew's brows arched in surprise.

"Oh yes. Don't you remember?" Feliciano stepped closer, blushing demurely. "Once upon a dream, ve~."

"Such sweet dreams, indeed." Prince Matthew laughed, charmed, and offered Feliciano his arm, blushing a little shyly. "Would you allow me the honour of escorting you, Feliciano? With your father's permission, of course." He added, glancing over to Antonio, who stood holding the prince's horse, patting its nose and talking to it softly.

"Daddy won't mind." Feliciano assured him, latching onto his arm. "Will you, daddy?"

"Not at all! Prince Matthew is a very honorable young man. You kids have fun." He smiled, waving them on. "I'll take care of your horse, Matthew, and then I'm going to go and check on the armoury. Make sure nothing's changed since I left."

"Well then, shall we?" Matthew addressed the vision on his arm, and canted his head, gesturing down the path.

"Ve~, yes! But first I'd _love_ to see more of the garden." Feliciano hinted as they walked, fluttering his lashes. "Your brother said you made it. That's so amazing, ve~! Would you please show me around?"

"I'd love to." The prince smiled, shy and eager a the same time. "Do you like flowers?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Well, that went pretty well." Alfred mused, watching the pair meander into the garden, absorbed in each other. "Mattie's usually so shy. Nice to see him taking an interest in something other than protocol and shit." He wrinkled his nose, squinting. Were those butterflies following Feliciano? ...and a _bunny_ rabbit? Where had that come from? He glanced over at Antonio. "Hey, Toni, is-" He stopped, watching in fascination as a little blue bird alighted on the other man's shoulder, joined after a few seconds by a red one which perched on his head, chirping cheerily.

"Hm, Alfred? Something wrong?" Antonio asked, looking over at him. A squirrel appeared from seemingly nowhere to chitter excitedly at his feet, and the horse whickered, nuzzling his chest, fighting for attention among the rapidly growing animal horde.

"Um..." Alfred glanced nervously around his own paws, and squinted back down the path. Nope, no little animals around him, or his brother. Just Feli and Toni. Weird. "Hey, where'd the huffy one go? Lovino?"

"Probably looking for tomatoes." Antonio answered, swinging effortlessly into the saddle. "He'll be alright. Lovi always lands on his feet, he's very capable! He takes after his papa." He smiled fondly at his son's resemblance to his ex-husband. "They're a lot alike. Roddy loves to read and write and play music, and he _always_ knows what to do in any situation. They even have the same adorable little pout, and tendency to blush! My youngest takes more after his daddy. Feliciano's just like me!"

"I can see that." Alfred nodded, acknowledging the resemblance between father and son, and stood, shaking himself off. "I should probably go look for Lovi, though. Even if he's capable, this place can be a bit of a maze if you don't know it well. Especially if he wanders into the labrynth."

"Okay. I'll see you boys at dinner, then!" Antonio waved, riding off. "Have fun!"

"Enjoy the armoury!" Alfred watched with interest as the birds and little beasts followed his friend's departure. "Curiouser and curiouser." He commented, and leapt atop the nearest hedge to scan the garden. "Now, where, oh where could our little Lovi be..." and, he wondered internally as he moved along the top of the hedge, where the fuck is Luddy? He was s'posed to be with Mattie!

* * *

><p><em>AN: Looks like Mattie's the early favourite in the fight for Feliciano's favour! Do your best, Ludwig! To be honest, I'd planned for GerIta, but it could go either way. I don't think Mattie's going down without a fight. Let the battle begin! <em>

_There really is a royal House of Chigi! When I read that, I realised I had to work it into this fic._


	7. Are You Really As You Seem?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or related properties. I don't own many of the fairytales and stories referenced within this work of fanfiction. Opinions, thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and actions expressed by the characters do not necessarily reflect those of the author. **

_This chapter brought to you hot off the presses. Review replies may be delayed, as I intend to use what little weekend time I have to write my brains out, before I get called back in to work. _

_Why must I be a teenager in love?~_

* * *

><p>Lovino stopped in his tracks, the heat from his embarrassment having cooled off, and looked around. Where had all the flowers gone? And when had the hedges gotten so tall? He craned his neck, turning around and around, hoping for some indication as to where he was in relation to the others; after all, he couldn't have gone <em>that<em> far, could he? He hadn't been paying attention, but...

Tall, green hedges easily twice his height met his eyes at every turn, walling him in. Soft grass underfoot, carpeting a path about four feet wide that ended...oh, no, it was just a turn, he realized as he got closer. A turn which led to...another hedged-in corridor.

So... he was in the cursed prince's labyrinth. Wasn't that just fucking dandy.

He grappled with a hedge, trying to see if he could cut through that way. But the network of branches was thickly woven and stiff, and laden, he discovered quickly and painfully as he tried to grasp one, with thorns. He withdrew his hand with a hiss, scowling at the bedeviled bush as he licked bleeding scratches. No escape that way, then. And anyway, he wasn't sure which way was out, so even if he _had_ been able to cut through the hedges he couldn't be sure he wasn't heading deeper into the labrynth instead of out.

Well, no matter. He couldn't be _too_ far in, right? The entrance had to be closeby. He just had to retrace his steps. He turned around again. He'd come from..._that_ direction, right? The soft, plush grass sprung back into place after every step, so there were no footprints he could follow...and the thin strip of blue sky and whispy white clouds that was all that was visible above gave no indication which way he'd come or should go.

_Dammit_.

A fluttering of wings as a dove landed on his head barely served to distract him from his predicament. Another one lit at his feet, quickly accompanied by a pair of rabbits. He sighed. "Look, I don't have time to deal with you right now, okay?" The dove at his feet fluffed its feathers, and flew up to sit on his shoulder, cooing. The rabbits began washing their ears and faces. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ugh. If you're not going to leave, then at least be quiet and stay out of my way. I've got to figure a way out of this damn maze." The animals perked up. The doves fluttered down to pull on his sleeves with their beaks. The rabbits hopped down the path a short distance, and looked back, waiting for him to follow. You know the way out?" He asked, surprised. Twitching ears and cooing noises served to answer in the affirmative.

"Oh. Alright, then. Thanks." He followed along as they fluttered and bounced ahead, and soon he could see a gap in the maze leading into the garden beyond.

"Huh." He said as he stepped through it. "Not bad, bastards."

"You talk to them?" Lovino spun around, looking for the source of the voice. "Up here!" He looked up. The 'cursed prince'— Freddy? Alfresco? No, wait, it sounded like a pasta sauce, one of the ones without tomatoes... ah! Alfredo, er, Alfred— was perched on top of the entrance to the labyrinth, staring down at him curiously. "Hi!"

"What are you doing up there?" He asked.

"I came to look for you." Alfred answered, leaping down from the hedge, landing silently on the grass. "Was having trouble finding you, but then I smelled blood. You okay?"

"The hedge scratched me." Lovino showed his bleeding hand.

"Ouch." The prince sniffed it, then flicked out his tongue, licking at the wounds. Startled, Lovino jerked his hand away.

"Don't _do_ that, bastard!" He snapped, cradling it protectively to his chest. "It'll get infected! I could catch some horrible disease!" The doves fluttered to his shoulders, cooing concernedly, heads cocked as they tried to peer at his hand, while rabbits at his feet set their forepaws on his trousers as they likewise tried to make sure he was okay.

"Sorry," The prince said, watching this in fascination. "it's instinctual. Uh, what's with the animals?" He lowered his head to sniff at a rabbit, which hopped to cower behind Lovino's leg.

"I don't know." Lovino confessed, frowning as a field mouse crawled onto the toe of his boot from nowhere. "They just show up."

"Huh." Alfred lay flat on the grass, ears flat against his skull, and scooted forward slowly, trying to get closer to the animals without scaring them away. "And you talk to them?"

"I'm talking to you, aren't I, bastard?" Lovino watched the furry prince creep up until he was nose-to-nose with the mouse, his huge head dwarfing the tiny verminous rodent.

"Touché." Alfred grinned, fangs glinting in the sunlight. The mouse, who'd been tentatively sniffing noses with him, squeaked in terror and fled up Lovino's trouser leg.

"Aw." The prince licked his nose, disappointed, and rolled onto his side, extending a paw towards one of the rabbits, which backed further away. "How do you get them to like you?"

"Damned if I know." Lovino answered, pulling the field mouse out of its hiding place in his collar and tossing it into a nearby bush. "Probably helps if you're not a fucking terrifying monster."

"You think I'm terrifying?" Alfred grinned up at him, tail thumping the ground.

"...Not when you're rolling around covered in grass and leaves trying to play with rabbits." Lovino amended, nudging him with a boot. "You kind of just look like an idiot. But otherwise, yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Awesome."

"Where's everybody else?" Lovino wondered, trying to shoo the assorted animals from his person. "I turn around for one second and everybody disappears on me, dammit."

"Well," Alfred answered, standing and shaking the grass from his coat, "your dad's making sure the armoury hasn't fallen apart in his absence, and your brother and mine are wandering around the garden making goo-goo eyes at each other."

"Your brother the prince?"

"Yep."

"Lemme guess- he rode in on a white horse and swept my brother off his feet."

"Something like that, yeah- which is really weird actually, 'cause Mattie's horse is a sorrel mare called 'Maple'. How'd you know?"

'Cause that's how things work for Feliciano, Lovino thought, but deadpanned, "I'm psychic."

Alfred's eyes grew wide. "You are? That's so cool! Tell me what I'm thinking!"

Lovino looked into the face which, despite being fanged and furry, bore an expression that was remarkably similar to what his father or brother would wear in this situation. "You're not thinking anything."

Alfred gasped. "You're right, I wasn't thinking anything at _all! _That's _amazing! _Do it again!"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Now you're thinking, 'Can you tell what I'm thinking now?'"

"Holy shit, that's right!" Alfred wriggled excitedly. "That's incredible! Do it again!"

"As much fun as this is, bastard, I think I'll pass. Someone mentioned there were tomatoes and a library around here, and I'd like to get on that."

"You're just saying that 'cause you don't know." Alfred accused smugly.

"...You're thinking 'I bet he can't tell what I'm thinking _this_ time.'"

"Holy fucking shit on a stick! That's _right!_"

* * *

><p>Feliciano was ecstatic. Everything, <em>everything<em> was just so perfect he could just burst into song at any moment. Prince Matthew was everything he'd dreamed his prince would be, and more. Barely an hour had passed since they'd first met, but Feliciano felt like he'd known Prince Matthew forever, long before they'd ever met. Like he'd dreamed him into life.

Which was only natural. After all, he _had_ dreamt of his prince, tall, blond, handsome, gentle, and here he was, in the flesh. In the garden, even! It was _destiny_. They were _made_ for each other. _Meant to be_.

He bit his lip and looked down, helpless to stop the happy blush and wide smile that spread across his face at the thought, and squeezed Prince Matthew's arm a little closer. He felt Prince Matthew's hand cover his, warm and gentle, sending tingles of pleasure and excitement through his body at the remarkably intimate sensation of skin on skin.

Prince Matthew turned to him. "There's something I'd like to show you." He confided with a squeeze of the hand, leading Feliciano down a small sidepath. "I think you might like it, eh?"

"I'd love to see _anything_ you want to show me." Feliciano twittered emphatically, causing the prince to blush a little, smiling warmly.

"I've been working on it for some time, and I think it's finally come to completion." Matthew continued, looking ahead. "It's taken years of careful breeding and hybridization, but..." He halted, exclaming in surprise, "Oh, it's... it's blooming."

Feliciano followed his gaze, and gasped, eyes widening. "Oh, how _beautiful!_"

A single flowering bush with deep red, velvety leaves stood alone in a small patch of earth, under the partial shade of a line of hedges. It was covered with small buds, most of newly-budded and green, some turning white, their closed tips a blushing red. But near the top of it a single flower had freshly blossomed. Pure, delicate white petals seemed to glow, unfurling to reveal a deep crimson center, kissed with gold at the very heart.

"I wasn't expecting it to bloom for another week." The prince mused, releasing Feliciano and kneeling next to the bush, examining the blossom. "How strange."

"It's so beautiful, Prince Matthew!" Feliciano gathered his skirts to kneel next to the prince, reaching out to touch the soft petals. "Ve~, what do you call it?"

"It doesn't have a name yet." The prince confessed, running his fingers along the stem. "I haven't been able to think of one that fit." He withrew his hand, satisfied that the bloom and bush were healthy and in good condition, and turned to look at Feliciano. "Feliciano," He said, taking his hand, and Feliciano turned to face him, "I, I know we've just met, and I hope you'll forgive me for being forward, but there's something I have to say."

"What is it, my prince?" Feliciano asked, a little breathlessly, gazing into deep violet eyes.  
>"It's been barely an hour since we were introduced, but...somehow, I feel like I know you." The prince looked down, blushing. "I-I'm sorry, that's weird, isn't it?"<p>

"No, no, it isn't, ve~." Feliciano insisted, covering the prince's hand with his own. "I feel the same way!"

"You, you do?" Prince Matthew looked up, surprised.

"Yes!" Feliciano smiled, reassuringly. "I feel like I've known you my whole life!"

Prince Matthew smiled, happiness and relief plain on his features, and gathered both of Feliciano's hands in his. "It's strange," he started, "I've...never felt like this before. It's... it's like-"

"Destiny." Breathed Feliciano.

"Yes." Prince Matthew's smile broadened, his thumbs brushing delicate skin of the hands he held. "Like it's meant to be."

"Like a dream come true." Feliciano murmured.

"Yes." Prince Matthew agreed. Removing his hands from Feliciano's, he turned to pluck the lone blossom from the bush, breaking the stem off at the base. "I've been trying to think of a name for this flower for twelve years." He said, offering the flower to his companion, who took it, mesmerized. "I must have come up with a million names, but nothing ever seemed right, eh? But now, thanks to you, I think I have one. The perfect name."

"Ve~." Feliciano's brows furrowed in confusion. "Thanks to me?"

"Yes," The prince confirmed, reaching out to caress his cheek, and blushed, continuing a little shyly, "your beauty, your sweetness, has inspired me, eh? And so... it, it seems only fitting that I name this flower for you."

"For me?" Feliciano gasped, clasping the flower carefully to his chest.

"Yes, if, if you'll allow me?" Prince Matthew looked into his eyes a little anxiously, seeking his approval. "I'd be honoured to name my life's work after you."

"Oh," Feliciano covered his mouth, touched. "oh, ve, ve, ve..." He dithered, flustered. "I- nobody's ever named a flower after me before! And such a beautiful flower! I, I- yes! Of course! Of course you can!" He flung his arms around the prince's neck, kissing his cheek.

"That's, that's wonderful." The prince's blush deepened, and he cautiously wrapped his arms around him, relieved and flustered as well. "You've made me so happy!"

"Ve~," Feliciano pulled back, beaming up at him, and closed his eyes, lifting his chin. He felt Prince Matthew's hand cup his cheek, and waited. After half a second had gone by, he peeked a little to see what the delay was. The prince smiled down at him in bemused admiration.

"You're supposed to kiss me now." He prompted.

"I am?" The prince asked, his smile a little mystified.

"Yes." Feliciano informed him. "After you've done something sweet and romantic, you're supposed to kiss me. That's how it goes, ve~." He closed his eyes again, puckering slightly.

"I see." Prince Matthew chuckled softly, amused, and leaned in to meet Feliciano's ready mouth. "Well, far be it from me to break from tradition, eh?"

Prince Matthew's lips were firm and soft against Feliciano's, the kiss gentle and chaste, a slow caress that left him breathless. It ended in just a brush of Prince Matthew's tongue against the tip of his own- a touch which, though light, carried the hint of a promise which curled his toes in pleasure and anticipation, causing him to dig his nails reflexively into the prince's shoulders.

"Wow." He decided dazedly, his eyes fluttering open a few moments after the prince had pulled back.

Prince Matthew, looking flushed and dazed himself, only nodded, gathering him closer.

Feliciano leaned up, winding one arm around the prince's neck, the other twining in pale golden hair. "I, I wouldn't mind if you kissed me again, Prince Matthew." He confessed shyly, lifting his chin in invitation.

"I think, under the circumstances, you can start calling me 'Mattie'." Matthew murmured, lowering his head for a welcome repeat performance.

_"Mattie."_ Feliciano whispered delightedly against his lips, heart racing as all his dreams came true.

* * *

><p>"Yes, oh <em>yes<em>." Lovino moaned rapturously, tears of indescribable pleasure shimmering in his eyes as he demanded, "_More_, bastard. Give me more."

"Hang on," Panted the prince, sounding strained, "I, I'm-"

"_No_." Lovino insisted fervently, voice rough with want as he dug his fingers into the prince's fur. He was close, so, so _close_. "_Now_. I _need_ more _now_."

"_Fuck_," Alfred whimpered, gasping, "I, I, _ah!"_

"Come on, _come on_." Lovino urged.

_"Nnnngh." _The prince's muscles quivered with effort, his breath ragged. "Almost..._alllmossst_..."

"_Please_." Lovino pleaded, fingers flexing in golden fur, shameless in his desire, his burning _lust_ for more, "Don't stop now, you _can't-_ I _need_ this. I'm, I'm so close I can _taste_ it, _please_."

"Gnhhh!" Alfred's hind legs churned furrows in the earth, overturning clumps of grass as he strained, heaved, panted. "No," He gasped, finally, pulling out. "no, it's no good. I can't do it. I just can't _fit_, Lovino."

"_No_." Lovino moaned, sobbing with want. "Try again. _Please_. You almost had it, bastard. We were _so close_."

"I'm sorry." Alfred laid his ears back, shoulders slumping. "It just won't work, Lovino. I can't fit. The window's too small."

"But you got one before." Lovino gazed longingly up at the open window, high on the greenhouse wall. The tomato the prince had gotten him had been everything he'd been promised: ripe, delicious, plump, sweet and juicy; but one was _not enough_. "You _have to try again_. I need another tomato, bastard. You promised me tomatoes."

"I was only able to get that one because it was at the very top of the plant directly under the window." Alfred explained, ears twitching regretfully. "None of the other tomato plants are that high up. I just can't reach, I'm sorry."

Lovino sniffled, scrubbing at his eyes, bitter disappointment stinging the back of his throat. "M-maybe, maybe if you stood on something. A, a barrel. A crate. _Anything_."

"I'm sorry, Lovino. It won't work. Even if I stand on something, I won't be able to get farther in. My shoulders just won't fit through the window." The prince's head drooped sadly. "I'm too big."

Lovino's legs collapsed underneath him, unable to bear the crushing weight of his disappointment and sorrow. His shoulder hit the wall, and he slid down to curl on the ground, pressing his palms into his eyes as a sob escaped him.

"Shit, are you okay?" The prince asked anxiously, nuzzling his shoulder.

"No." Lovino admitted, hot tears coursing his cheeks. "I'm not okay. For one brief, shining moment I held paradise in my hands, and it was_ all taken away_. It, I- that feels pretty shitty, bastard."

Alfred whined sympathetically, placing a paw softly on Lovino's knee. "I'm sorry. I didn't know the door would be locked. It usually isn't. I don't know why it is today."

"Probably saw me coming." Lovino sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall as he stared at the sky with red-rimmed eyes. "It's how my life goes."

"The gardener's off for today," Alfred's ears twitched as he thought, "but I bet Ludwig would know where the key is. If we could find him we could get it open pretty quickly."

"Do you know where he is?" Lovino asked, hopes rising tentatively.

"No," Alfred confessed, looking around. "I have no clue. He was supposed to be with Mattie, actually, and he wasn't, which is weird. Normally I'd be able to smell him if he was anywhere within half a mile, but I don't. Which means he's either on the far side of the castle, or out in the forest. Or off castle grounds entirely, but that's not like Ludwig." He sighed, removing his paw from Lovino's leg. "But then again, it's not really like him to go anywhere without letting me know when and where he's going and when he'll be back, or to not be with either me or Mattie otherwise, so I don't know _what's_ up."

"So what you're saying is, we're not going to find the key anytime soon." Lovino's hopes, briefly resurrected, died once more.

"Probably not." Alfred admitted. For a while they sat in silence, broken only occasionally by a residual sniffle from Lovino. The prince stared at the open window above, tail twitching as he thought. There had to be _some_ way...oh!

"Oh!" He exclaimed. "I know! I can't believe we didn't think of this before!"

"Because it won't work?"

"No, it totally will! Listen, Lovino, we've been going about this all wrong. _I'm_ too big to fit through that window, but _you're_ not!"

Lovino tipped his head further back to stare at the window far, far, too fucking far overhead, and frowned. "Yeah, sure, I could fit." He acknowledged, unimpressed. "But I'm too fucking short. There's no way I can reach, idiot."

"On your own, yeah," Alfred's tail fluffed excitedly as he explained, "but if I give you a boost you could do it, no problem!"

Lovino looked between the prince and the window, brows furrowed in thought. "Y'know..." he said, slowly. "that... just might work."

"It totally will!" Alfred assured him, moving to stand under the window. "C'mon, get on and I'll boost you up!"

"Alright." Lovino clambered to his feet, and climbed onto the prince's back. "Okay."

"No, higher up. Sit on my shoulders. Put your legs around my neck, like that, yeah. Now, hold on tight, okay? You ready?"

"Do it." Lovino nodded, peering anxiously up at the window to heaven. He tensed as the prince surged under him, the ground falling away, and within moments the window was right in front of him.

"Okay, now, grab the windowsill." Alfred instructed, turning his head to the side so it wouldn't be in his passenger's way.

"Unngh," Lovino stretched his arm, trying to get a good grip on the windowsill, but unable to reach far enough. If he could just get a little closer...but he was reluctant to unwrap his legs from the prince's neck, unwilling to plunge to his death (or a broken leg), either. "I can't...quite...reach."

"Just scoot up my neck a bit." The prince suggested. Lovino wriggled up his neck a few centimeters, but it still wasn't enough. He could get a grip on the sill, now, but just with one hand. He sat back, exhaling.

"No good." He said, eyes narrowing in thought. He grabbed the prince's head, redirecting it to the window. "Here, stay right... there."

"'Kay."

Lovino carefully inched forward until he straddled just behind Alfred's ears, and could lay flat across the furry skull. He grabbed onto the windowsill with both hands, and _pulled_, sliding inside. "_Yes_." He crowed, landing among the tomato plants on the top rack. "_Fuck_ yes! Hahaha! _Finally!_"

"All good?" Alfred called through the window.

"Yes! It's _great!_" Lovino called joyously back as he climbed down the shelving, looking around the cavernous greenhouse in awe. "There are tomatoes _everywhere_ in here!"

"Yep! That's what it's for." Alfred answered. "Think you could open the door?"

"Nn." Lovino grunted affirmatively, mouth too full of tomato to answer properly, and made his way down the center path, thickly lined with tomato plants, to the front door. Flipping the latch which locked the door from the inside, he opened the door, and the prince padded in.

"Thanks."

"Mm." Lovino swallowed, licked his lips, and reached for another tomato.

"So-"

"No talking. Tomatoes." Lovino closed his eyes, savouring the tomato, which was the most heavenly tomato he'd ever eaten; just like the two before it had been before he'd tasted the next. This place was _amazing_. He wondered if they'd let him live here. He could sleep on the racks, among the tomato plants.

"Wow, you really like tomatoes, huh?" Alfred watched bemusedly. "And I thought Toni went nuts when he first saw the armoury."

Lovino snorted, and grinned, giddy with happiness in his newfound tomato bliss. "I can imagine." He licked a trickle of tomato juice from his wrist, and reached to another plant, plucking a handful of cherry tomatoes this time. He popped one in his mouth and bit down, moaning when its goodness burst on his tongue. "_Thank you God_." He chewed slowly, savouring every moment. "You have no idea," He sighed, swallowing, "_how_ good it is," he popped another tomato in his mouth, and moaned again, "to have fresh tomatoes," he licked his lips, "after so long."

"Uh," the prince stared with wide eyes, one ear twitching back, "do you want me to leave you alone with the tomatoes? You...seem to be having a moment."

Lovino shrugged, favouring him with a brief glance as he started to place another cherry tomato on his tongue. Then he stopped, turned, and _glared,_ pointing furiously. "_No." _He ordered, eyes blazing, "Get out! You may _not_ come in here, dammit!"

"Er," The prince shifted uncertainly, confused by this sudden mood swing.

"Get out, get out, _get out_!" Lovino demanded, storming towards him, and Alfred tensed, ears twitching rapidly back and forth, unsure how to deal with this new situation. To his surprise, though, Antonio's excitable eldest son swept past him to the open door, booting a large rat back outside, where it squeaked indignantly. "Listen up!" Lovino announced, standing in the doorway, "_None_ of you is to come in this greenhouse, _ever_, got it? Never. This place is _off-limits_. These tomatoes," he gestured behind him, "are _sacrosanct_. Do Not Touch. I don't care if my idiot brother invites you in here, or my stupid dad, or _anyone_, you are Not to Enter, understand?" He threw the door wider open, and stepped aside, gesturing to prince Alfred, "You see him?" Alfred found himself the object of the wide-eyed, terrified stares of a congregation of assorted wildlife. "If I find out that any of you has even _thought_ of coming in here, _I will let him eat you_."

"Hey, now-" Alfred protested, only to have Lovino's glare directed at him.

"Shut up." Lovino ordered, and turned back to the animals. "Now listen- there are places you can go, and places you can't. This is a fucking big garden, and you should be able to find plenty of places to mess around. We'll figure out the rules for inside the castle later, but right now, I want _all_ of you to remember- _the greenhouse is off limits_. Got it?" A chorus of mildly terrified squeaks, chirps and chirrups was his answer. "Good. Now go on, make sure everyone knows." He slammed the door and turned around, sighing as he reached for the nearest tomato.

"Was that really necessary?" Alfred asked, scenting the air. "You know, you scared the piss out of most of them. Literally."

"It's the only way." Lovino said, biting into a fat, red tomato. "If you give the little bastards an inch, they walk all over you. If I'd just said 'don't come in here', the tomatoes would be gone by morning."

"Really?" Alfred's ears twitched back in dismay at the thought. No tomatoes? That would be awful! He loved tomatoes almost as much as he loved ground beef! The climate in Alfredia tended to be too wet and cool to grow them normally, so he'd had to figure out a way to grow them properly. It's taken him _months_ to design and build this greenhouse. "Well, then I guess I'm glad you did it. You didn't have to tell them I'd eat them, though."

"Sorry." Lovino said, not terribly concerned, since he was pretty sure it had been a valid threat anyhow, whatever the prince said. He saw the way the bastard had been drooling over the rabbits. "Was the most effective threat I could think of. You _look_ like you'd eat them."

"Mm." Alfred hummed noncommittally, nipping a nearby tomato off a vine with his teeth, holding it between his paws as he chewed. Truth be told, he'd been fighting the instinct to do just that, but Lovino and the animals didn't need to know that.

"You eat tomatoes?" Lovino asked in surprise, watching him curiously.

"Of course." Alfred answered, looking up from his tomato and licking his lips. "Why else would they be here?"

"I dunno." Lovino shrugged, taking another bite of his own tomato. "This is a crazy place. You've got an armoury and horses for my dad, a cursed prince and a prince on a white horse for Feliciano, a library _and_ tomatoes for me." He gestured around at the plethora of tomato plants surrounding them in a green and red jungle of fruit and vines. "And it all came out of nowhere. I was starting to think this was some sort of magic wishing castle, or something." He paused, swallowing thoughtfully. "Or that you're a troll or something in disguise, luring us in with our greatest desires so we drop our guard and you can, I don't know, eat us or something."

The prince snorted, laughing. "Hahah what? No way!"

"How would I know, bastard?" Lovino shrugged again, reaching for yet another tomato. "Though, if you were gonna be in disguise, I'd expect you to be a pretty girl, not a huge fucking monster. But you can never tell."

"So, if you thought that I was gonna eat you or somethin', why'd you come?" Alfred wondered, licking tomato pulp from his paw pads.

Lovino gave him a look that said plainly _are you kidding?_, and threw his arms wide. "_Tomatoes_." He said, emphatically, like it was the answer to all life's greatest questions.

"Huh." Alfred cocked his head, pondering. "I can see you're going to be an interesting person to know."

Lovino went up on his tiptoes, reaching for a fucking _gorgeous_ tomato on one of the plants on the upper racks. "I'm a simple man with simple pleasures, bastard." He maintained, twisting the tomato off the vine, and settled back on his heels, polishing it on his sleeve, and counted off on his fingers. "Tomatoes. Books. That's all I need." He bit into the tomato, moaning in pleasure as he chewed. "And good shoes." He remembered to add after a moment. He looked at the three fingers he held up, and nodded. "Yep, that's about it."

"What about clothes?"

"Clothes are good, but I don't _need_ them." He and Feliciano could take or leave clothes (although his brother did seem to have developed that odd penchant for dresses ever since their stay at Prince Hedervary's), and often had- but shoes were a _necessity_.

"I know what you mean." Alfred sprawled on his side, toying a tomato between his paws. "I haven't worn clothes in years."

"You gonna play with that or eat it?"

"Both." Alfred grinned, flexing his claws, piercing the tomato's skin. Lovino took a few steps back, staring warily at him and the bleeding tomato. Amused, Alfred made a show of peeling the skin off with his teeth, tearing into red flesh with his fangs.

"D-do you have to eat it like that?" Lovino complained weakly, paling.

"Like what?" Alfred asked innocently, lapping at the juice dripping from the tomato's wounds. He was having fun. Everyone around the castle knew him too well to be afraid of him, so it was a new experience to be able to tease someone like this. And Antonio's eldest was so excitable! It was cute how seriously he took everything. He wondered how far he could go before Lovino figured it out

"You, you don't eat people, right?" Lovino quavered, stepping back further. "I...you..."

"No," Alfred answered nonchalantly, tossing his head back and swallowing the rest of the tomato whole. "I don't eat people." He licked his lips, and grinned again, showing all his teeth. "Too hard too undress. And the clothes stick in my teeth."

Lovino swallowed, hard, and tried to surrepticiously edge for the door. He'd known it was too good to be true! _Dammit_, it was just his luck! "W-why'd you bring us here, bastard?"

"Um..." Alfred's ears twitched as he tried to think of a good response to keep this going. He was having too much fun to stop now! What to say, what to- aha! Part of an old fairytale his mother used to tell him when he was a toddler came back to him. His tail twitched in satisfaction. This was going to be _good_. He rose to his feet, stalking predatorially towards his companion. "Your father promised me something."

"Y-yeah? W-w-what did he promise you?" Lovino backed away, making no pretense of his intentions now.

"Oh," said the prince, "I think you know."

Lovino's heart sank. He knew where this was going. He knew of a number of stories that began this way, but they all ended the same. His mind raced through the various incarnations of the tales, hoping for some variation that might give him hope. He'd been the first to greet Antonio when his father had arrived at the cottage- he was the eldest- he'd hadn't been the one to ask for expensive gifts (damn his simple tastes)- and Feliciano had the other prince, now, so he was the only single one..._shit shit shit_. He was _fucked_.

He turned and bolted for the door, but the prince was faster. The door slammed shut just as he reached it, and he found himself caged in, the monsterous paws pinning the wall on either side of his shoulders. He turned, slowly, pressing his back to the door, and stared into the blue eyes staring intently down at him. _Shit_.

The cursed prince grinned, slow and easy, fangs gleaming, claws flexing into the wood on either side of Lovino, and he whimpered helplessly, the wood at his back the only thing holding him up as his legs went weak from fear. "B-b-b-but I don't _want _to m-m-marry you!" He wailed in desperation.

Alfred blinked, taken aback. "Wait, what? Who said anything about marriage?"

"You d-didn't have to, I know the s-story." Lovino trembled, pressing back into the wood, trying to melt through the door. "My, my idiot father p-p-promised me to you. I did all the th-things, s-so, I'm the one who's supposed to do it, b-b-but, I don't want to marry you, bastard! I, I, I want to fall in love and be happy, like Elizabeta and papa, and Feliciano and his stupid prince, and, and, and-" he started to sob in earnest, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, "I, I don't w-want to marry you!" He wailed again.

"Aww, I'm sorry." Immediately regretting his teasing, Alfred dropped to all fours, pawing gently at his leg. "I was just kidding, I didn't mean it. You don't have to marry me, okay? Toni didn't promise me anything. I just remembered part of a story my mom used to read to me and thought I'd tease you about it, but I didn't remember the whole thing, so I didn't know it would make you think you had to marry me." He felt awful about having made the boy cry. Lovino had come off so tough, but apparently he was actually pretty sensitive. He'd expected Lovino to fight back, or laugh it off like Antonio would have, but it was pretty obvious now he'd misjudged the situation. He backed off a few more paces and lay down, resting his head on his paws and flattening his fur, trying to look nonthreatening. After a few moments, Lovino lowered his arm a little to peer cautiously at him, and sniffled.

"I, I don't have to marry you?"

"No, you don't have to marry me." Alfred said, trying to make his voice calming and reassuring. "I'm sorry I made you think you did."

Lovino wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, and hiccuped. "Then, why d-did you bring us here, b-bastard?"

Alfred's eyes slid to the side, wrapping his tail around himself as he explained, "It's just, well, there's loads of room in the castle and, you and your dad seemed to be going through hard times and I wanted to help, and well, there's servants and stuff but they don't really talk to me much 'cause of protocol and shit, and most of the time it's just me and Mattie and Luddy, and, I thought we could be sort of like one big family, and it'd be nice, that's all, honest. I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry, really."

"...How did you think the story was supposed to go, then?" Lovino asked, after another few minutes' silence.

"Hm? Oh, I, uh...wasn't sure, actually. My mom used to tell us this story when we were babies. I don't remember much of it, except there was a monster who lived in an enchanted castle or something and met this guy in the forest, and the guy promised him his kid in return for a lot of money? Or something like that, I'm not sure. If I had to guess I would have thought the monster would eat 'em or enslave 'em or something and a prince would come charging in at the last minute to slay the monster and save the kid." He frowned, laying his ears back. "Y'know, either way that's really kind of horrible. I guess I didn't think that through."

"No shit." Lovino agreed. "And the monster _was_ the prince, bastard. He was enchanted."

"Really?" Alfred's ears perked up, intrigued. "Kind of like me, then!"

Lovino regarded him seriously for a moment. "I really don't have to marry you?"

"Nope, you really don't."

"...and you're not going to eat me? Or Feliciano or my dad? Any of us?"

"I don't eat humans, honest. That would technically be cannibalism, which is gross." Alfred wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Besides, it's inhumane."

Lovino stared at him for another few moments, unable to tell if Alfred was being serious or not. Finally deciding on the balance of his (admittedly limited) previous experience with the prince that was, he asked a little tentatively, "So, nothing terrible is going to happen?"

"Nope!" Alfred assured him, then paused, and amended, "Well, at least, nothing that I know of. I can't see the future, so I can't say for sure. But I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't." He raised his head from his paws, and cocked it curiously as he recalled, "Wait, aren't you psychic? So you should be able to tell, right?" He wriggled eagerly, tail thumping the floor in his excitement at the thought of witnessing another display of Lovino's psychic abilities.

Again, Lovino could only stare at the prince. Was this guy for real? "Are you _sure_ you're a prince, bastard?"

"Of course! My parents were the king and queen, so I'm totally a prince. The _crown_ prince, as a matter-of-fact, which is like, prince plus. _Super_-princeness. And eventually, I'll be king."

"But you're not human." Lovino pointed out. "Isn't that a problem?"

"Y'know, I wondered about that too at first, but it turns out it isn't. We checked the rules after I was cursed, and it doesn't say anywhere that the king has to be human. Just, y'know, of royal blood. Which I am."

"Huh. That's convenient."

"Yeah, I guess."

There was a slightly awkward silence as they stared at each other.

"So..." Alfred wondered, "are you gonna come off that door anytime soon?"

Lovino considered it, one hand reaching instinctively for the handle. He couldn't help noticing Alfred's eyes follow the movement. "I'm fine here, thanks."

"Not even for tomatoes?" Alfred prodded, curious.

"I'm full, thanks." Lovino lied.

"I'm not going to hurt you or anything." Alfred said. "Really."

"You said that, yeah." Lovino acknowledged, not moving from his spot on the door.

Alfred stared at the young man plastered to the door, watching him warily, and sighed inwardly. He'd really fucked this up, huh? Who knew pretending to be a terrifying, maneating monster would backfire so badly? "Isn't there any way you'll trust me?"

"Nothing comes to mind." Lovino responded honestly.

Alfred did sigh then, deep and resigned, and rolled onto his side. This would be amusing if it wasn't so depressing. Lovino seemed genuinely afraid of him, and that sucked. "I didn't eat Antonio." He pointed out a little plaintively. "Doesn't that prove anything?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Dad once fell into a tiger trap, and when the tiger it was meant for came by, it _went and got some vines _to pull him out."

"Haha, really?" Alfred asked, incredulously. "He didn't tell us that one!"

"One time, he got lost on his way home and ended up wandering into the den where this huge, maneating lion lived. And then you know what happened?"

"No, what?"

"_Nothing_. He pulled a thorn out of it's paw, and it followed him home. Papa was _pissed_." He scowled. The damn thing had _always_ missed the sandbox, and of course _Antonio_ had never remembered to change it. No, _Lovino_ and papa _Roderich_ were the ones who had to feed and groom and clean up after him, clip his nails and shit. And then dad had gone and taken him into town and left him unattended while he was in the tavern, and he'd been mistaken for a wild lion and things had only gone downhill from there. They'd buried Mister Snuffles in the garden under the olive tree, and Antonio had been banned from bringing home any more 'family pets' after that.

"No way! Really?"

"_Really_. Another time he went fishing and was swallowed by this _monstrous_ whale. And then, when he built a fire in its belly to cook the fish he'd caught, the whale coughed him right back up, along with a ship it'd swallowed earlier that he ended up using to get home. And _then_ he got stuck inside this creepy haunted castle, and when he came out three days later, he had _bags_ of gold and jewels." He shook his head, remembering, "Of course, then he went and lost 'em when he fell into quicksand on his way home, but he ended up in this cave at the bottom where he landed on a lamp that granted him _three fucking wishes_." Antonio had wished first for some light since it was so dark in the cave, second for a glass of water (because falling through the sand had made him thirsty), and third, to go home to his darling Roddy and sons (he'd appeared out of nowhere in the parlour holding a cheap, useless lamp, and dripping sand on Roderich's favourite Persian rug). "Things work like that for my dad. No matter what kind of shit he gets in to, it always turns out alright in the end. For him, anyway."

"Not for you?" Alfred asked, noticing the coda.

"Not for me." Lovino affirmed.

"But you're here now." Alfred pointed out.

Lovino quirked a brow significantly. He _was_ here. In a greenhouse full of tomatoes, that he couldn't get to 'cause a monster blocked the path. That proved his point, as far as he was concerned.

"Look, I know I scared you, and I'm sorry." Alfred licked his nose, trying to figure out how to convince Lovino that he wasn't going to hurt him. "And I know you said I was terrifying earlier. I thought you were just being nice, but, I guess you were serious. And I guess pretending I was going to eat you or marry you or whatever didn't help. It was pretty stupid of me to do that." He admitted, shamefaced. "I didn't think you'd take me seriously, not, y'know, really. But, I don't understand why you're so scared of me in the first place. I mean, before I pretended I was going to eat you. Your dad and your brother aren't, so, why are you?"

"Are you _seriously_ asking me that?" Lovino stared at him incredulously.

"I really want to know." Alfred answered earnestly. "I don't understand why you're so scared."

Lovino's eyebrows rose in utter disbelief. "You're seriously fucking asking me _why_ I'm scared of you."

"Yeah. I mean, Antonio isn't, and your brother wasn't, so...why are you?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "First of all, my dad and brother are _idiots._ _Secondly_,_"_ he gestured towards the prince, flapping his hand to encompass the prince's..._everything_, "you're fucking terrifying. I mean, look at you!" Alfred looked down at himself. "You're claws are fucking huge, and you've got huge, sharp fangs, and you're...you're a huge fucking monster! What's not to be scared of? You could swallow me whole, bastard! I wouldn't stand a chance! _You,_" He finished emphatically, letting his arm fall back to his side, "are _scary_."

Alfred blinked down at himself, looking at his body with new eyes. He, he knew his claws were big, and he did have fangs, and, well...okay, he _was_ really huge. But he'd always thought that was pretty cool. Certainly no-one else had seemed to mind. Animals were a little afraid of him, sure, but they'd been a little afraid of him as a human, too. But he'd never had a _person_ be afraid of him, before. The servants and Ludwig and Matthew all treated him pretty much the same as before. And Antonio and Feliciano hadn't seemed to care. He glanced up at Antonio's eldest, who even now had on hand one the door, ready to escape, and his stomach sank. Sure, it was fun to _pretend_ he was scary, and run around in the forest and lurk through the castle pretending to be a horrible beast, but that was just pretend. The _idea_ of being scary was cool. Having someone _actually_ be afraid of him...kind of sucked. A lot.

Come to think of it, Antonio and his sons were the first people he'd come across since he'd been cursed. Antonio and Feliciano weren't afraid of him anymore than Mattie or Luddy, but according to Lovino, that wasn't normal. Sure, he wasn't able to leave castle grounds, but...if he was, would other people be afraid of him, too? His subjects and stuff? Normal people? That would _totally suck._

"You really think I'm scary?" He asked in a small voice, glancing back up at Lovino.

Lovino's hand shifted uneasily on the handle of the door. The way the cursed prince was looking at him, eyes wide and sad, ears and shoulders drooping, looking like someone had just told him Santa didn't exist, was making him feel a little guilty about being scared, but, he couldn't help it, dammit! Those claws looked _deadly! _He was _huge!_ And besides, he reminded himself, sure he looked all cute and sad and fuzzy right _now_, but he was still a monster. Crocodiles cried too, right? He couldn't let his guard down just for puppy eyes and furry faces! Be strong! Like with the animals, or his dad and brother! "Y-yeah, I do." He said, trying to keep his voice level, but couldn't help adding. "S-sorry."

"Oh." Alfred said sadly, drooping further. Slowly, he got to his feet. "Um, could you open the door? I kinda wanna go."

Silently, Lovino pulled the door open, careful to duck behind it so it was between him and the prince. Alfred winced at that, ears flat against his skull as he skulked out. He paused when he was almost through. "I'll...send someone to get you when it's time for dinner. Ludwig has some kind of welcome planned, and I'd hate for you to miss it."

"..Okay." Not guilty, not guilty, not feeling fucking guilty. He didn't know anything _about_ this guy, dammit! He _said_ he was harmless, and he looked it, all droopy and sad like this, but for all Lovino knew he could have a cellar full of people he'd lured here with tomatoes! Besides, his mind kept flashing back to those sharp claws digging into the wood on either side of him, and those fangs so close to his face. He closed the door behind the prince, and glanced at the ragged scars the prince's claws had made in the wood, and shivered.

Alfred looked over his shoulder at the door behind him. He'd really fucked that up. He turned towards to castle, tail dragging the ground as he walked, head hanging, listless and depressed, and sighed deeply.

So much for dreams, huh?

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yeah, you screwed that up, Alfred. That was all you, genius. You were doin' alright 'til you went and did somethin' monumentally stupid. If you'd stuck with the script, things would have been just fine. But no, we had to improvise. <em>

_*sigh* Okay, so improvising usually works well for you two, and you didn't know it would backfire this time. *pat pat*_ _Still. Really. Trying to scare him? Not as funny as you thought, hmmm?_

_Don't worry though, I'm sure Lovino'll warm up to you eventually. ...Right?_

_Augh, guys, Feliciano and Matthew. You have no idea how hard it was to keep them from...well, let's just say the fic almost jumped to an 'M' rating. I managed to alleviate it this time, but I can't guarantee it's not going to happen in the future, so please be aware that this story could become Mature at any time. I'll post a warning in the disclaimer, though. Pay attention to that if it's a concern. _

_And where the bloody hell is Ludwig? _


	8. A Spoonful of Sugar

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, nor the other tales referenced below.** **Please note that the opinions, thoughts, feelings, beliefs, actions and events contained within the following work of fiction do not necessarily reflect those held or endorsed by the author (sometimes, quite the opposite).**

_Don't ask. So tired. So, so tired..._

* * *

><p>"Hey, Antonio." Alfred greeted in a subdued fashion, butting open the door to the armoury and slipping through.<p>

"Hello, Alfred." Antonio stood on tiptoes to hang a freshy-sharpened vouge among its mates, pulling an identical one from the place next to it. "Is it time for dinner already?"

"No, not yet." Alfred followed him back to a bench near the window, where Antonio sat, laying the weapon across his lap. He watched as the older man tested the blade, frowning, and took a whetstone from the table nearby to begin sharpening the insufficient edge. Soon the soft, grinding _shhhhik, shhhhik, shhhhikk_ of stone on metal filled the air with a hypnotic rhythm. The prince flopped down on the ground next to Antonio's feet, comforted by the sound.

"Hey, Toni? Am I scary?"

"What?" Antonio looked down at the prince who lay at his feet, without pausing in his task. "Of course you're not scary, Alfred! You're very cute."

"But, I have really big claws." Alfred rolled on his back, waving his paws in the air to display said weaponry. "And fangs. Doesn't that worry you?"

"Don't be silly, Alfred." Antonio smiled, scratching the prince's chin with his foot. "Why would I be worried about something like that?"

"But I could be very dangerous." Alfred pressed, tilting his head to the side for more scratches. "I'm really big, and they're really sharp. You don't think that's scary?"

"I'm holding a very big, very sharp weapon." Antonio pointed out mildly. "Are you afraid of me, Alfred?"

"Well, no."

"But it's very big, and very sharp. And you've seen me use one like it, haven't you?" Alfred nodded, remembering. Antonio had given them a demonstration shortly after he'd discovered the armoury. It'd been very impressive. Even Ludwig had been a little awed afterwards. "So, you know I'm dangerous. That doesn't worry you?"

"Of course not." Alfred rolled onto his belly, licking his nose. "You're _Antonio_. You wouldn't hurt me."

"And you're Alfred." Antonio leaned down to ruffle his ears. "You wouldn't hurt me, either."

Alfred smiled, tail thumping the ground.

"Now," Antonio sat back, returning his attention to his blade. "what's brought on all these silly worries about being scary?"

Alfred sighed, laying his head on his paws. "Nothing..."

"Al," Antonio chided, nudging his paw with the toe of his boot, "good boys don't lie to their elders. Tell me what happened."

Alfred's ears flattened against his skull. He was ashamed and embarrassed of what he'd done, and a little scared that Antonio would be angry with him when he'd found out he'd scared his eldest son, but he didn't want to lie to Antonio, either. "You're going to be mad at me." He muttered, eyes sliding to the side. "I did something bad."

"Oh?" Antonio set aside the whetstone, and reached for the polishing cloth. "Well, that's not good. What did you do?"

Reluctantly, and a little haltingly at first, Alfred told Antonio everything that had happened from the time he'd found Lovino exiting the labrynth until he'd left the greenhouse. When he'd finished, Antonio sighed, setting the weapon aside.

"Well, I'm not angry," He started, running a hand through his hair, "but I'm not going to lie to you Alfred, I _am_ disappointed. That was not a very nice thing to do at all, and I expect better from you." Alfred whimpered, hot shame flushing his skin under his coat. Antonio leaned down to place a hand on his head as he continued, "But I know that you didn't do it to be mean, and I know that you're very sorry, so I forgive you." Alfred surged up to wrap his forelegs around Antonio, resting his huge, furry head on his shoulder, whimpering pitifully. "Aww, there there." Antonio wrapped his arms around the prince's neck, petting him soothingly. "Don't cry, Al. You're just an honest boy, aren't you?"

"I try to be." Alfred confessed. "I'm really sorry, 'Toni."

"I know, I know." Antonio encouraged, patting him. "That's what makes you such a good boy, Alfred. Everyone makes mistakes, you know. But it's what you do afterwards that matters, right?"

"Mm, yeah." Alfred acknowledged, pulling back and dropping to all fours. "Thanks, Toni. I feel a little better. But, what am I going to do about Lovino? He's really scared of me."

"Ahhh," Antonio sighed, turning to pick up the vouge and polishing cloth once more, "that might be difficult. Lovino's a strange boy. I don't really understand him. He can be so aloof and bratty sometimes! But, he has his cute moments, too." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I think if you just express yourself honestly with him, Lovi will understand that you didn't mean any harm."

"I don't know." Alfred said doubtfully. "I already apologized and everything, but he's still scared of me."

"I'll tell you a secret." Antonio lowered his voice confidentially, leaning low over the shaft of the weapon, "Lovi's scared of _everything_. He's a little bit of a scaredy cat. Both my boys are. I don't know where they get it." He straightened, shaking his head in puzzlement. "Their papa used to say that it was a psychological reaction to trauma, but, I don't know what he meant by that- we were always very good to our babies!" He frowned at his reflection in the polished blade, wondering not for the first time what could have happened to traumatize his boys. He was always careful to spoil them, and Roderich, though strict, was a loving papa, so he didn't know what it could be. Unless their birth had been traumatic? He couldn't be sure since he hadn't been there, but his husband _had_ been away on business at the time, and that could have been pretty stressful. He hadn't even known his husband was pregnant, or he would have made him stay home, business be damned. He would have liked to spoil Roddy during his pregnancy, and make plans and talk about baby names- it would have been so much fun! But Roderich was very independant and aloof, so he understood why his husband would have kept it a secret. He probably didn't want Antonio to worry. Still-

"But, how can I make Lovino not be scared of _me_?" Alfred wondered, interrupting his mental digression. Antonio stood, hefting the polearm across his shoulders.

"Lovi can be hard to figure out, but, I think if you give it time he'll warm up to you." He said as he made his way over to the rack to hang the vouge back in its place. That done he turned, hands on his hips, and smiled. "I think I know something that might help. Why don't you come with me to the kitchen, Alfred. You can help me make churros- Lovi loves my churros! Then you can bring them to him as a peace offering, hmm?"

Alfred got to his feet, spirits rising. Antonio was a genius! Sweet things made everyone feel better! And who could be scared of someone who gave them sweet things to eat? "That's a great idea, Toni, thank you!"

"It's nothin', Al. I want all my boys to be happy together." Antonio beamed, patting his head affectionately. Then he flung the door open, pointing dramatically as he strode through it. "Now, to the kitchens! It's Churro Time!"

"Hahahaha, yay!" Alfred cheered excitedly, bounding after him. "Race you there!"

"Ah! No fair, Alfred! You have more legs than I do!"

"Hahaha! I totally do!"

* * *

><p>Lovino sat on a rack near the back of the greenhouse, surrounded by tomatoes. He swung his feet as he ate, enjoying the rich, green smell of tomatoes growing, soaking up warm sunshine and admiring the way it shone through the panels of glass that made up the greenhouse. The glass was thick, so thick that it was translucent rather than transparent, and rippled like the water in a pool, casting shining waves of light over the leaves and fruit and floor. The overall effect was very calming, even if it did make him feel a little like he was underwater.<p>

Kind of like some sort of tomato mermaid— or was it merman?

He promptly decided to forget he'd ever thought anything like that.

Still, it was a pretty impressive structure. Glass was rare and expensive, and seeing a whole _building_ made of it was almost magical. Like something out of a fairytale. Then again, this whole _place_ was like something out of a fairytale; the whole fairytale package, practically. Towering white castle, huge flowering gardens, labyrinth, princes on white horses, and...uh, the, uh ...'cursed' prince.

Whom he didn't really want to think about right now.

That whole thing had felt like far too narrow an escape. That stupid prince had scared the _shit_ out of- no, not thinking about it.

He couldn't remember tomatoes featuring in any fairytales, though, or libraries. Armouries and stables featured in a few, so there was a pretty good chance that his dad was caught up in whatever was going on, but all things considered this seemed like Feliciano's fairy tale. And since he was Feliciano's brother, he was probably safe from being dragged into it, for the most part. Siblings didn't feature much in fairytales after the prince had gotten involved, and libraries and tomatoes were non-fairytalesque, so really, he was probably just a background character. Which suited him just fine. Saved him from any more crazy adventures.

Really, after all the stuff he and his brother and father had been through 'til now, he was looking forward to fading into the background where he could enjoy his tomatoes and read books in peace.

The existence of the cursed prince was bothering him, though. Why was there a cursed prince? Feliciano was the princess, and he already _had_ a prince, so having the cursed prince around too didn't make sense. If he was there for Antonio, they should have hooked up already, and the prince shouldn't still be cursed. But they hadn't— which made sense, 'cause his dad wasn't a princess, either.

And _Lovino_ sure as hell wasn't a princess. (Sure he fit some of the criteria of the ones which featured the cursed prince, but there was no promise, so it didn't count. And besides, tomatoes. And books. And Feliciano.)

So why the hell was there a cursed prince? It made no sense.

_Alfred _made no sense. Whoever heard of a prince who wanted to be cursed? Alfred actually seemed _happy_ about it. _And_ he'd already eaten the cure, so... but...

No, no, he was reading too much into it. This wasn't a fairytale, it was _real life_. And even if it _was_ a fairytale, it was obviously Feliciano's, so it had nothing to do with him. He didn't have to worry about it. Whatever was up with the errant cursed prince, it had nothing to do with him. All he had to do now was relax and enjoy being a background character. Like that Ludwig fellow Alfred kept talking about.

Or maybe this 'Ludwig' was Alfred's princess? Sucked for him, then, what with the cure being eaten and all.

Either way, it wasn't him. That was the important thing.

Even the prince _did_ seem strangely familiar.

Satisfied that he'd worked out his role, he leaned back against the glass, reaching for another tomato; only to sit bolt upright again as the wooden door at the far end of the greenhouse swung open, and the wild card in this possible-fairytale-that-had-nothing-to-do-with-him walked into the greenhouse carrying a basket in his mouth. The prince sat just inside the door, dropping the basket in-between his paws.

"Um, hi." The prince called tentatively. "I come bearing churros." He paused for a moment, then added, enunciating carefully. "_I mean you no harm._"

Lovino's brows furrowed. Could this guy get any more weird? The warm, cinnamon scent of the contents of the basket drifted towards him, and his mouth started to water. He dropped from his perch, lured by the promise of churros.

"This had better not be a trick, bastard." He warned as he drew closer.

"No tricks." Alfred assured him, lowering his head to nudge the basket forward. "Just an apology."

"I thought you said they were churros." Lovino hesitated, reaching for the handle.

"The churros are the apology!" Alfred explained, watching him snatch it up and look inside. "Well, part of it."

"What's the other part?" Lovino asked distractedly, pulling out a still-warm churro, glancing up as he gnawed on it. "You know, you have flour on your face."

"I do?" Alfred licked his paw, swiping it over his muzzle a few times. "Did I get it?"

"No." Lovino informed him, halfway through his churro. "It's still there."

"Ah." Alfred licked his paw again, rubbing at his face. "Did I get it now?"

"No." Lovino shook his head slightly. "It's kind of..." He made a circling motion in the air, "all over."

"Oh." Alfred sat on his hind legs, licking both his front paws and scrubbing at his face. Lovino watched, brows raising, as the prince washed himself, licking furiously at fuzzy paws before rubbing them over his ears and down his face, repeating the motion over and over until all the flour was gone, and his fur was fluffy and clean once more.

He hated to admit it, but that was pretty fuckin' cute.

He'd finished four churros before Alfred settled back on all fours, looking at him anxiously.

"Did I get it all?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "No, wait." He stepped forward, brushing an especially stubborn spot of flour from one of the furry ears. Alfred's eyes widened, and he sat perfectly still, holding his breath so as not to scare Lovino away. "There. _Now_ it's gone."

"Thanks!" Alfred said, breathing again. "Does...does this mean you're not scared of me anymore?"

"Ah." Lovino suddenly realised how close he was standing to fangs and teeth and claws, and leapt back, eyes wide.

"I guess that's a no." Alfred said a little sadly, one ear twitching back.

Lovino fidgeted, glancing down at his hand. He hadn't even thought about it, he'd just stepped forward and brushed him off, forgetting what could happen. Like he'd done it a million times. It was the washing that had done it, he realized. The way the prince had washed his face had reminded him strongly of their pet lion, Mister Snuffles (deceased). Come to think of it, they were a lot alike. They were both big, and golden, and furry, and had fangs and claws and tails. _That_ was why Alfred was so familiar! He was subconsciously associating him with Mister Snuffles!

"Isn't there any way I can get you to trust me?" Alfred interrupted his epiphany to ask, shoulders slumping. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I don't know." Lovino confessed, frowning in thought, and glanced between his hand and the prince, eyes narrowing. He took a step forward, reaching out, and the prince sat up, perking hopefully.

"Lovino?"

"Just...don't move, bastard." Lovino ordered, voice shaking a little. Understanding, Alfred's head swivelled forward, and he sat quietly, letting Lovino do what he needed to do. Lovino took another cautious step, and poked his shoulder, drawing back immediately. When Alfred didn't do anything, he did it again. Then slowly, cautiously, he brushed his fingertips across golden fur, watching warily for any sign of danger. When nothing unfortunate happened, he stepped a little closer, pressing his hand flat against Alfred's side. When that seemed safe, he ran his hand across it, feeling the ribcage underneath. He buried both hands in the rough fur, exploring fur and skin and bone and muscle, running his fingers over the ridges of the prince's spine, the sharp edges of his shoulderblades, feeling his soft belly.

Alfred perfectly still, utterly enthralled. This was one of the most fascinating things that had ever happened to him.

(And that was saying alot.)

Soon Antonio's eldest grew bolder, crouching down to run his hands over the thick, furry tail, noticing that the fur was longer there, and softer. He picked it up, hefting it in both arms, a little surprised at how heavy it was. He let it drop, and stepped over it, coming around to the other side of the prince to continue his exploration. Slowly, he worked his way up to the neck, where the fur was thicker, plusher; rough on the outside, but soft underneath, when he buried his fingers deep inside. He glanced at the furry ear perched temptingly close, and bit his lip, reaching tentatively to rub it between his fingers.

Alfred's eyes widened, and he held his breath, struggling desperately not to move or make a sound. Why did his ears have to be so _sensitive_? He heaved an internal sigh of relief when he didn't linger and the touch disappeared from his ears, and into safer territory under his chin. Lovino moved around to stand in front of him, engrossed in his examination, fingers exploring his muzzle, tracing his whiskers (and Alfred had to struggle not to react again, 'cause _fuck_ that tickled), and even, eventually, to Alfred's surprise, lifting his lips to poke at his fangs.

"I thought they'd be sharper." He mused, and Alfred swallowed his protest that _hey, his fangs were killer-sharp, thank you very much_, reminding himself that he was trying to be _less_ scary, and Lovino thinking his fangs weren't very sharp was a _good_ thing.

Even if it was a blow to his ego.

Distracted by his wounded pride (his fangs weren't _really_ dull, were they?), he didn't notice Lovino release his muzzle and crouch to the floor, trying to lift his paw. "Oi." Alfred blinked, looking down to see Lovino staring at him pointedly, grasping his wrist in both hands. "Paw." Alfred shifted, lifting his paw, and watched curiously as Lovino explored that, as well, prodding at his claws, pulling them in and out of their sheaths, manipulating his toes, each in turn. "They don't go all the way in." Lovino frowned, pushing at one.

"They're only semi-retractable." Alfred explained. Lovino nodded, and tilted his head to see the underside of the massive paw, prodding the toepads. He glanced up when Alfred huffed.

"Tickles."

Lovino nodded again, and wordlessly put the paw down. Then he stood, walked back to the basket of churros, and picked it up, pulling one out.

"So?" Alfred prompted, after a few moments. "You're not afraid of me anymore, right?"

Lovino shrugged a shoulder, licking cinnamon sugar from his lips. "I dunno, bastard. Not as much, I guess."

"Well, that's a start, I guess." Alfred sighed. He lay down, resting his chin on his paws, one ear twitching back in wry amusement.

"Want a churro?" Lovino offered.

Alfred perked up again, tail thumping the floor. "Yes."

Lovino held one out for him to take, watching interestedly as Alfred stretched out his neck to take it gingerly between his teeth, dropping it between his paws to eat.

Huh. Mister Snuffles used to do that too.

Curious, he broke another churro in half, waiting until Alfred had finished and looked up, licking cinnamon sugar from his whiskers.

"Sit." He said, holding up the half churro. Alfred pushed himself up on his forelegs, eyes on the churro. Lovino fed it to him, and reached into the basket, breaking off another piece, and held out his hand. "Shake." Alfred proferred a paw, and Lovino shook it, rewarding the prince with another churro fragment. He reached back into the basket. "Roll over." Alfred dropped to the floor, rolling onto his side. Lovino shook his head and stepped closer, nudging his ribs with a boot. "Lazy. You're supposed to roll all the way." He chided, and Alfred grinned, tail thumping the floor.

"Churro?"

"You don't deserve it, but okay." Lovino allowed, tossing him one. Alfred caught it in his mouth, grasping the end between his forepaws as he chewed happily. Lovino huffed in amusement, crouching down to scratch the golden tummy. "Idiot."

"Mm. 'Toni makes the best churros." Alfred decided, even though he'd never tasted churros before Antonio had arrived, and therefore had no basis for comparison (it was true, nonetheless, but that doesn't excuse his postulating theory as fact without proper research, unless you take it as an emotional statement based on his affection for Antonio). He licked traces of cinnamon sugar from his pawpads. Lovino who actually _did_ have more churro experience, nodded, chewing on one of his own. It was true. His dad made the best churros in the world. He'd done the research. He glanced over at the prince, who smiled back at him.

"Oi, you've got sugar all over your whiskers." Lovino said, voice muffled by his churro, and leaned over to dust it off, brushing industriously at the prince's muzzle. "How can you get so messy from just a couple churros, bastard?"

"I don't know." Alfred answered honestly, swiping his whiskers with a paw to help clean them off. "I don't try, it just happens."

"Don't do that, you'll just spread it." Lovino batted his paw away, frowning. "I got it."

Alfred raised his eyebrows (although it wasn't obvious, since his face was covered with fur). He was pretty sure Lovino wasn't scared of him anymore.

"There." Lovino said, satisfied. "All better."

"Thanks." Alfred said dryly, quirking a brow in an equally undetectable fashion.

"You gotta be careful with sugar, bastard." Lovino dusted his hands off, and sat back, pulling out another churro. "It's not like flour, it gets sticky if you don't clean it off right."

"I see." Alfred said, a little amused. "Can I have another churro?"

Lovino looked into the basket. "There's only one left, and it's mine, bastard."

"Aww." Alfred protested, conveniently forgetting that the entire basket of churros had been meant for Lovino as an apology. "But you're already eating one!"

"It's still mine." Lovino answered flippantly, taking the last bite of his second-to-last churro.

"Aww, c'mon."

"Nope."

Alfred's ears drooped in a pout, and he wriggled around to lay his head next to Lovino's knee, trying to look pitiful and churro-less (that last one was easy).

"D-don't look at me like that, bastard." Lovino flushed, nudging him. "It's not going to work."

Alfred's ears drooped a little further, and he whimpered faintly.

"Auugh _fine_. We can split it." Lovino growled, reaching into the basket.

"Yay!"

"But you get the smaller piece, dammit." Lovino added, breaking the last churro in half.

"That's fine." Alfred said, taking his half from Lovino's fingers. "Thank you!"

"I, I'm just full from all the tomatoes I ate earlier." Lovino informed him, flush deepening. "So, don't go thinking you're cute or anything like that, okay?"

"You think I'm cute?" Alfred perked up, dropping his churro. This was great! Lovino_ couldn't_ be scared of him now!

"No, dammit!" Lovino defended, shoving him away with a foot.

"You do! You think I'm cute!" He grinned, wriggling excitedly. "You totally do!"

"No I don't, dammit! Sh-shut up!"

"Aw, Lovi, it's okay! I think you're cute, too!"

"I DON'T THINK YOU'RE CUTE! And what the fuck are you trying to do, bastard? Get off of me!_"_

"Hahaha sorry. I was just thinking, when your face is all red like that, you kind of look like a tomato!"

"That doesn't mean I taste like one, bastard! Chigi!"

* * *

><p><em>An: two steps forward, one step back. Still, it's a start. Power went out several times while I was writing this, and I ended up losing a fair chunk of what I'd already written. C'est la vie. Hopefully work will settle down in the coming week and I'll have more time to write, instead of a few stolen hours here and there, forsaking sleep to sate my burning need to write.<em>

_Is that creepy? I don't know. I'll try and figure it out when my brain starts doing the brain thing. _


	9. Do You Remember?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

_Struggling through writer's block at the moment, so I can't really speak for the quality of this. Still, I'll keep pushing through 'til it's clear._

* * *

><p>"I'm going to pick some flowers, Mattie~." Feliciano decided, smiling up at the prince whose arm he'd been leaning on as they walked arm-in-arm along the bank of the river bordering the garden. "Maybe I can make flower crowns for daddy and brother!"<p>

"Alright." Matthew smiled back, releasing his hold. "We have a few hours before we have to be back at the castle. You go ahead, and I'll stay here and watch you, eh?"

"Mm!" Feliciano agreed, squeezing his arm and bounding off into the field of wildflowers, rabbits and butterflies trailing after him. The prince settled down on the bank to enjoy the moment.

"_Il est bonne, non?_"

Matthew blinked in surprise at the unexpected voice, looking over his shoulder. A great, green frog sat perched on a rock a little to his right, staring unblinkingly at Antonio's youngest. It turned its gaze on him, winking one giant, violet eye. He smiled in tentative welcome, having recognized the frog as the cursed prince his brother had 'rescued' from the river a couple of weeks before.

(In actuality, Alfred had planned to keep him as a pet at first, having captured the amphibious royal while playing in the river. The crown prince had come bursting into the sitting room, eager to show off his new pet to his brother and Ludwig, and when he'd spat the creature onto the table, Matthew had recognized the frog's traumatized sputtering and croaking as the language of one of the kingdoms 'across the pond', as it were. Luckily, the youngest prince was fluent in the language, having studied it during his princely training. They'd cleaned the frog Prince up, apologized for his brother's actions, listened to his story, and invited him to stay with them as long as he chose.

He'd lived in the castle for a couple of days, but following a series of incidents- which the frog prince had assured them were simply a succession of 'unfortunate misunderstandings'; after all, as a frog, he was attracted to water, so if he found a bath full it was only natural that he should enter it, no? And if his froggy hands had wandered, well, he wasn't entirely in control of his new body, yet. And frogs needed dark places to hide, so it was instinct that had led him to Ludwig's bed, Matthew's underwear drawer, and a number of other ...questionable places.

Matthew and Ludwig weren't entirely convinced by this 'explanation', but Alfred commiserated with his fellow cursed prince. After all, he explained as he came to their guest's defense, his new body came with powerful new instincts, too- such as the urge to pounce and devour smaller creatures, such as rabbits and frogs and the like. And like Francis, sometimes he had little control over his new instincts, and would find himself with a mouthful of rabbit before he knew what was happening. That was, he pointed out earnestly, exactly how he'd come across Francis in the first place. In fact it had only been extreme luck that he'd been able to stop himself from biting down after he'd pounced upon the wriggling frog.

After he'd digested this information, Prince Francis had said that although he appreciated Prince Alfred's support, on the whole, perhaps it was best if he, Francis, stayed in the garden, where his instincts were unlikely to engender any further 'misunderstandings'.)

"_Oh, it's you, Prince Francis."_ Matthew greeted the foreign prince in his native tongue, even as he turned back to watch his new true love frolic with the creatures among the wildflowers. "_Yes, Feliciano is very..."_ He trailed off, the end of that statement lost as he once more became caught up in watching the subject of their discussion, a blissful smile curving his lips.

_"You __**want**__ him_._" _Matthew was once again shaken from his lovestruck reverie by the frog's observation, and glanced sidelong at him, blushing slightly. He could almost swear Prince Francis was _leering _at him, if frogs could leer. _"Look at him, you know you do."_

He looked at Feliciano, who stood bathed in sunlight in a field of flowers, bending, lithe and graceful, to gather blossoms in his arms. Matthew's eyes traced the graceful curves of cheek and neck and shoulders, bare above his dress; the material of which the light shone through translucently, the lissome, naked form underneath a dark silhouette in the center of soft, white light; like the white head of a seeded dandelion held up to the sun. Matthew swallowed, fingers flexing involuntarily as heart and arms and body ached to hold the glorious creature standing in the flowers beyond.

The frog prince chuckled knowingly, and Matthew recalled himself, blushing once more. He straightened, lifting his head regally. _"I...we've only just met,_ eh?" He said, trying to ignore the beating of his heart, and the way his blood quickened when Feliciano's musical laughter floated over the air.

Prince Francis made a dismissive sound somewhere between a scoff and a croak, and waved a froggy hand as if brushing off the relevance of that fact. "_You must __**sieze**__ the moment- take love where you find it! It's possible he wants you too, no?" _

Feliciano turned to smile at Matthew, arms full of flowers, blushing becomingly as their eyes met. He ducked his head, hiding his smile behind the flowers, wide brown eyes sparkling above the petals. Matthew's head went swimmy.

_"There is one way to find out,"_ Prince Francis went on, voice lowered conspiratorially, _"there is no-one around, yes? It is the perfect chance-"_

_"His family is under my protection."_ Matthew cut him off, frowning slightly at what the cursed prince was implying. "**He** _is under my protection." _

_"That's not all he could be under." _Francis' leer was back. _"You are a prince, are you not? Exercise your royal prerogative! __**Take**__ what you want. He wants it; and even if he doesn't, who can stop you? He is alone, unguarded, un-" _The click and hiss of cold steel interrupted him this time, as Prince Matthew pointedly withdrew his sword a few inches from its scabbard in warning.

"I'm starting to see why you were turned into a frog." Matthew said, eyes narrowing.

_"Ah, the noble protector."_ Francis' eyes gleamed. _"So brave, so __**romantic**__~! But we both know it is not myself in which you wish to sheathe your 'sword', no? Ahonhonhon~."_

Matthew's lips thinned, even as his cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment. "_Prince Francis, I must ask that you refrain-"_

"Ve~, Mattie?" They looked to see Feliciano trotting towards them through the flowers. Matthew turned, momentarily forgetting the frog prince in the approach of Feliciano, and breaking into a shy smile as he sheathed his sword.

"Yes, Feli? Did you need something?"

"Yes~." Feliciano smiled back, stopping before him and setting the bundle of flowers he carried on the ground. "Would you undo me, please?"

"Er, what?" Matthew blinked, taken aback.

"Ve~," Feliciano explained, turning so his back was to the prince and smiling up at him over a smooth, bare shoulder, "I dropped something down the front of my dress, and I can't get it out. Will you undo me?"

"Eh?" Prince Matthew swallowed hard, faced with the graceful curve of bare neck and shoulders, and the row of laces below that were the only thing separating him from the warm body beneath. He took a deep breath, and reached for a lace.

"_Go ahead._" Francis hissed hungrily, crawling eagerly forward on his rock to see better, "_**Undo **__him."_

_"**I'm** going to be undone at this rate."_ Matthew moaned under his breath, and began to untie the bodice.

"Did you say something, Mattie?" Feliciano asked, glancing curiously up at him with big, doe-brown eyes.

"Ah, how far did you want to be untied?" Matthew covered his nervousness with a smile, fingers trembling on the laces.

"Not too far, about halfway should be fine." Feliciano answered, facing forward again and plucking at the front of his bodice. "I just need to be loosened up a bit."

_"Ahonhonhon~,_" Prince Francis was leaning so far forward on his rock that he was in danger of falling forward off of it, his low-level lecherous chuckle an almost continuous background noise by now. Matthew shifted to block the frog prince's view, and kicked backwards, dislodging the lecherous beast from his perch, smirking inwardly at the startled croak as Francis tumbled backwards into the dirt.

"There, th-that should be about halfway." Matthew stated finally, withdrawing his hands from the laces. "See if that works, eh?"

"Okay~," Feliciano sang, bending forward and pulling out the front of his bodice as he dug around inside. Matthew averted his eyes, trying to focus on the grass at his feet instead of the rustling of Feliciano's dress and other sounds of his exploration.

"Oohh." Feliciano exclaimed in frustration, drawing his attention back to him.

"What's wrong?"

"I just dropped the flower you gave me down the front of my dress." Feliciano explained, head bent to peer down the bodice as he rummaged around, attempting to see where it had gone. "I can't...quite reach it." He sighed, straightening, and turned to the prince. "Ve~, Mattie, can you reach down my dress and get my flower, please?" He leaned forward, pulling the front of his bodice out once more, placing a hand on Matthew's chest for balance. "It's too far down for me to reach on my own."

"O-oh. Okay." Matthew closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. Slow, deep breaths. He could do this. He was a _prince_. His fingers brushed silk-soft skin, and Feliciano giggled.

"That tickles."

"Ah, where...?" Matthew asked hesitantly, struggling to avoid peering down the other's dress. Under his protection, Feliciano was under his protection. Antonio had trusted him with his son. Antonio had said he was _honorable_.

"It's just a little farther down, Mattie." Feliciano directed, giggling slightly as the prince's questing fingers occasionally tickled his skin. "You almost have it, ve~."

Finally Matthew's hand closed around the delicate blossom, and he withdrew it from Feliciano's bodice, holding it out for him to take. "There." He said, sighing inwardly in relief. "There you go, eh?"

"Thank you!" Feliciano beamed up at him as he took it, pressing the flower to his chest. His already off-the-shoulder sleeves slid farther down his arms at the movement, and Prince Matthew flushed, averting his eyes once more, and cleared his throat.

"T-turn around, Feli. I'll...tie you up." He offered, and blushed deeper as he bit his tongue, wishing he'd phrased that better. "I mean, fasten your ties."

"Oh, yes." Feliciano turned, tucking the recovered flower behind an ear, and tugged his sleeves back into place. "Thank you, Mattie~."

"A-anytime, eh?" Soon Feliciano was all laced up and safely covered (though, to Matthew's private dismay, it did little to reduce the temptation he presented). Feliciano faced him, reaching up to clasp his hands behind Matthew's neck, and lifted his chin, eyes sparkling coyly.

"I think you deserve a reward for saving my flower, ve~." He smiled, going up on his tiptoes.

"Mm?" Matthew smiled back, genuinely, and leaned down to claim his reward. Before their lips met, however, a loud croak shattered the silence, startling them both. Matthew's jaw clenched, knowing that Francis was exacting his own form of revenge for being unseated so unceremoniously, but Feliciano frowned, glancing around curiously.

"Ve~, what a big frog!" He exclaimed, catching sight of Prince Francis, who'd managed to struggle back onto his rock during the flower-recovery efforts. He released Matthew and knelt to scoop up the cursed prince before Matthew could stop him. "And what big eyes you have!"

"All the better to see you with, _mon cheri._" Prince Francis winked, violet eyes hungrily roving the boy's form. "And you are a feast for the eyes, indeed."

"Aren't you sweet." Feliciano giggled, patting his head.

Matthew placed a possessive hand on Feliciano's shoulder, glancing warningly at the frog prince. "Feli, I don't think-"

"Allow me to introduce myself, _ma belle_." Francis interrupted loudly, webbed hand brushing Feliciano's. "I am Prince Francis, alas, cursed to inhabit this lowly form until such time as I meet a lovely creature like yourself, who might bestow upon me a kiss to free me from my dreadful curse."

"You're a cursed prince?" Feliciano gasped, brows furrowing in concern. "You poor thing! Oh!" He realised, remembering something. "You must be-"

"Yes, woe, woe is me, I suffer so terribly, you do not know." Frog Prince Francis interrupted, languishing theatrically in Feliciano's grasp. "Forced to eat vile things, you would not believe it- slugs, insects, snails, oh! My torment is endless."

"Poor Prince Francis." Feliciano petted his head sympathetically. "You wait here, okay? I'll go and get you something nice to eat, ve~."

"Non, non," Prince Francis declined, continuing passionately, "I hunger no longer for food, _ma belle_. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I have hungered for one thing, and one thing only. You must **kiss** me, princess! Release me from this vile form, and I will give you earthly pleasures beyond your wildest dreams!" He puckered, as much as a frog could do so, sticky tongue flickering out in anticipation.

Nigh-endless patience worn thin, Prince Matthew scowled, reaching for his sword once more, opening his mouth to direct Feliciano away from the cursed prince so he could deal with matters, but Antonio's youngest beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, Prince Francis. " Feliciano smiled amicably, and stood, pattering towards the river. "That's very nice of you, but I already have my prince." He tossed the frog into the water, adding, "And brother made me promise not to kiss any demons or frogs. Bye bye! Good luck finding your princess!" Shaking his head and chuckling softly, Matthew joined him at the bank to wave as the prince was carried along in the rushing current. Once he'd disappeared from view, Feliciano brushed off his hands, and paused, frowning thoughtfully down the stream. "Ve~, do you think we should have invited him back to the castle for dinner? I know he said he wasn't hungry, but snails don't sound like a very good meal."

"I think you handled it just fine." Matthew reassured him with an amused smile. "I'm sure he's in a hurry to find his princess, eh? You did him a favour." Taking into consideration how he'd been planning to handle matters, Feliciano might very well have saved the frog prince's bacon. And potentially averted an international incident, considering that the reprobate frog _was_ royalty (even if he was reprehensible example of the class, in Matthew's opinion).

Feliciano, he decided as he watched Antonio's youngest gather up his armful of flowers once more, would make a very good partner indeed.

Perhaps it was time to talk to Antonio.

"Prince Matthew!" A panicked voice rang out over the field. A castle maid came running from the garden, stopping before the prince, and doubled over, hands on her knees, panting hard from her run.

"What's-" He began, stepping forward in concern.

"P-Prince Matthew!" She gasped, pale and visibly shaken. "Y-your Majesty, you must come to the castle! Quickly! It's...it's Master Ludwig! He, he-" She burst into tears, covering her face with her apron. "There was so much b-blood!"

"_Oh_." Alarmed, Matthew started for the castle, and stopped, remembering his charge. He couldn't leave Feliciano here alone, unguarded. But Ludwig was hurt, and they needed to _hurry_. "Feli, I..."

"Go on ahead, Mattie." Feliciano assured him gently. "Your friend needs you, right? I'll be right behind you."

Matthew nodded, a grateful smile gracing his lips, his thanks clear in his lavender eyes, and turned to run, tearing towards the castle as fast as his long legs could carry him, through bush and hedge and carefully-tended flowerbeds, protocol and propriety cast aside in his single-minded urgency to make sure Ludwig was safe; unmindful of the branches and thorns tearing at clothes and skin, unmindful even of Feliciano following close behind, fleet-footed as a deer.

They reached the castle in record time. Matthew barrelled through the great wooden doors, slamming them open in his haste. The servants who were collected in the entryway to discuss the situation started in surprise and bewilderment as their normally sedate prince burst through the castle doors, and stood panting, hair askew and clothes ripped, staring at them with wild-eyed urgency.

"Your majesty, you're bleed-"

"Where's Ludwig." Prince Matthew demanded, grabbing the nearest servant by the collar.

"Y-y-your h-highness I, I, I-" The suddenly terrified man stuttered, unaccustomed to this sort of behaviour from the calmest member of the royal family.

"_Where is he!"_ Matthew shouted, shaking the man, and one of the maids stepped forward, raising a trembling hand to point down one of the corridors.

"He's in his rooms, your majesty! The doctor-" Matthew didn't wait for her to finish, dropping the servant he held and taking off toward the steward's rooms. The remaining servants looked at each other uncertainly, worried about Ludwig and Prince Matthew and unsure what to do under the circumstances. They turned to Feliciano, who'd arrived unnoticed with Prince Matthew and stood flushed and panting on the marble, arms full of flowers.

"Ve~," Feliciano said, once he'd recovered his breath, and stepped forward, handing the bundle of flowers off to a young woman, "take these and put them in water for me, please." The young woman curtseyed and hurried off, glad for the task, and he turned to the rest of the servants, smiling charmingly. "If someone can find bandages and salve, and bring them to me- Mattie's going to need them for his wounds. And some wine, to help settle his nerves. Has someone been sent to find Alfred?"

"Yes, sir. We have men searching the gardens and the castle for his Highness." One of the few remaining servants answered respectfully, relieved to have someone to tell them what to do in this confusing time. The servants waited anxiously, hoping he had tasks for them as well, so they wouldn't have to stand around feeling useless and confused. Thankfully, he did.

"That's good. Please send someone to fetch my father and brother as well, okay? Check the armoury and the greenhouse." He ordered, and smoothed his dress, straightening his hair. "And now; if one of you could take me to mister Ludwig's room."

* * *

><p>So much blood. There was <em>so much blood<em>. Matthew felt sick, the heavy knot of worry twisting in his stomach. Ludwig looked so _pale_ lying there. Deathly pale, his clothes soaked in blood, eyes closed in sleep, so still and pale that he looked more dead than alive. He reached to brush blond hair back from tightly-wrapped bandages with a trembling hand, staring at the red blossoming on white linen at Ludwig's temple, and swallowed hard.

"It's not as bad as it looks." The doctor's voice cut into his musings, and he looked up from Ludwig's impossibly pale, sleeping face into the sympathetic gaze of the doctor's, hoping for any reassurance. "I'm not going to lie to you, your majesty, it _is_ bad. He's lost a lot of blood." The doctor gathered his tools and things and packed them into his case with professional precision as he continued, "The wound he sustained is relatively shallow. If he had been treated sooner it wouldn't have been a problem, but since there's no telling how long he'd been lying there before he was found, well. Head wounds have a tendency to bleed profusely, you see." The doctor closed his case with a snap. "I'm also concerned by the fact that he hasn't woken yet. I _suspect_ it's due to the blood loss, but there's a _possibility_ that he sustained a concussion. I won't be able to tell for sure until he awakens."

"Is he going to live?" Matthew asked, voice almost a whisper.

"He should." The doctor assured him. "He'll need a lot of rest, and he should be on a special diet to help replenish his blood for a while, but he's very strong. I anticipate that he should recover fairly quickly."

Matthew nodded, absently brushing the hair off of Ludwig's bandage-covered forehead, the back of his nose and eyes stinging as the tears started to fall. "Okay." He sniffed, tucking his own hair back and out of the way, and reached for Ludwig's shirt. "We need to get these bloody clothes off of him. Ludwig...Ludwig doesn't like blood. He wouldn't like it. He hates blood."

"Yes, your majesty." The doctor responded, a little awkwardly.

"He, he hates blood." Matthew repeated in a whisper. His hands shook, and he choked back a sob, rubbing at his tears with the back of hand briefly before resuming his task, unknowingly smearing blood from his cuts across his cheek with the action. He barely registered the door opening and closing behind him, and Feliciano entering the room.

Setting the wine and bandages on a table beside the door, Feliciano took his place beside the prince, brows furrowing in concern as he took in Matthew's state. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mattie?"

"I, I, I can't-...it won't come off." Matthew sniffed wetly, tugging frantically on a blood-covered lace, face screwing up in anguish. "I can't...it won't come off! Why won't it come off?" He turned to look pleadingly at Feliciano. "I have to get it off, Feli. Ludwig hates blood. But it _won't_-"

"Shh, shhh." Feliciano soothed, placing a gentle hand over Matthew's struggling ones, stilling them, and reached up to run his fingers through pale gold hair, petting him. "It's okay. We'll get them off. I'll help you. Well do it together."

Matthew looked into his compassionate brown eyes, and after a moment, he nodded, exhaling gratefully. "Okay."

"Okay." Feliciano smiled warmly, and Matthew smiled back, a little watery.

Together they undressed the injured man, working in silence except for the occasional sniffle from the prince, and redressed Ludwig in clean clothes, tucking him into the bed. Matthew sighed deeply when it was done, reaching once again to automatically brush the sleeping blond's hair from his bandages, looking pale and tired himself. Feliciano busied himself gathering the bloodied clothes together, in order to put them aside to be washed.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, eh?" Matthew apologized quietly, breaking the silence.

"Ve~," Feliciano paused in his task to smile reassuringly at the prince, "you don't need to apologize, Mattie. It's obvious you care for him very much. He's very important to you, isn't he?"

Matthew nodded. "Ludwig...Ludwig is..."

"I understand, ve~." Feliciano said warmly, and picked up the last of the clothing. "I'll just take these things to be washed, okay? And then I'll be right back."

"Okay." Matthew nodded again. "Thank you, Feli."

The door shut with a bang as Feliciano left the room, and Ludwig stirred, groaning, at the sound. Matthew leaned over him anxiously. "Ludwig? Ludwig!" In the background where he'd been discreetely waiting, the doctor grabbed his bag, moving to stand next to the bed in case his patient woke up.

Ludwig exhaled through his nose, and frowned, eyes opening slowly. He blinked, frowning confusedly at the ceiling. "W-what..." He started, voice weak and hoarse.

"Your majesty, I must examine him." The doctor prompted, setting his bag on the bed and unlatching it. Matthew pulled back to give him room, and the doctor hovered over the injured steward, peering into his eyes.

"How do you feel, Master Ludwig?"

Ludwig blinked again, slowly, trying to focus on the doctor and failing. "I...feel dizzy...I...where?"

"You're in your room, Ludwig." Matthew explained gently, and Ludwig's head turned towards his voice, lolling a little. He blinked dazedly at the prince, and squinted.

"Everything's...blurry..." He said, a little bewildered.

"That'll be the blood loss." The doctor said, and stepped back from the bed, slipping his tools back into his bag. "Well, it doesn't look like he's got a concussion, as far as I can tell; but keep an eye on- hey now, you need to lay down." He said, reaching for Ludwig, who'd pushed himself up off the bed to see Matthew better.

"Ludwig, you need to lay down." Matthew repeated, leaning forward to assist the doctor in easing him back onto his pillow. Ludwig screwed his eyes tight shut, feeling very dizzy, and allowed them to settle him back on the bed. "There now." Matthew said gently, petting him. "You just need to rest." Ludwig blinked several times, and stared up at his prince, whose face was considerably closer now. Then he stiffened, with a sharp intake of breath, staring at the prince's cheek.

_"No."_ He breathed, reaching out a hand, "_Matthew_." He stopped, visibly shaken, and yanked his hand back, trying to push himself up off the bed once more.

"You have to lay down!" The doctor ordered, pushing on his shoulders. "Help me get him down!"

"Ludwig!" Matthew yelled, grabbing his arms. "You have to lay down!"

"No!" Ludwig struggled against their hold, only to freeze once again, eyes wide and staring, as he caught sight of Matthew's face once more. "_No_." He choked out, and thrashed, wildly, breaking from their grasp and falling off the bed, where he scrabbled backwards across the floor, staring, horrified, at Matthew. "_No, no, no I didn't mean to do it I didn't mean..." _His back hit the wall and he curled into a fetal position, hands fisting his hair, eyes screwed shut, rocking as he chanted._ "No, I didn't mean to, I didn't want to do it, no, no, no."_

"Ludwig." Matthew's voice broke, and he turned to the doctor, looking lost. "But I removed all the blood...why?"

Shaken himself by this turn of events, the doctor stared back at him, and gestured to his cheek. "You...have..."

Matthew swiped at his cheek with his fingers, hissing in frustration as they came away with flakes of dried blood. "_Shit_. _Shit_." He scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. How could he have been so _stupid?_

"Listen," Said the doctor, urgently, having recovered his senses, "we have to get him calmed down. In his state, this excitement could be highly dangerous. We _need_ to get him calmed down."

_"Shit_." Matthew hissed again, almost sobbing. He approached Ludwig, hands extended in an attempt to calm him. "Ludwig," He started, voice shaking, "Ludwig, it's okay. Ludwig." Ludwig opened his eyes to look up at him, but cried out when he caught sight of Matthew's hands, screwing his eyes shut tight again, and rocked faster, keening.

Matthew looked down at his hands, covered in scratches and blood from his hasty journey through the hedges, and his stomach dropped. "_Shit_." He swore again, clasping his hands into fists, nails digging painfully into his palms.

"We _have to get him calmed down."_ The doctor reminded him, even more urgently.

An animal noise of frustration tore itself from Matthew's throat, and he fisted his hair. "Alfred. We need Alfred." He spun around, eyes wild, demanding, "Where's Alfred?"

"I, I, I don't know, your majesty." The doctor stammered, stepping back instinctively at the look on the prince's face. "The...the servants haven't been able to-"

"Auuugh!" Matthew crossed to the window, throwing open the shutters with a bang, and leaned out much farther than he should to scream with all his might. _"ALLLLFRREEEDDD!"_

* * *

><p><em>AN: Ludwig's back.<em>

_...What is this? What IS this? Angst in my crack? Angst in MY crack? What is this madness?_


	10. Consequences of Past and Present

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

_This is a mess. Right now this looks like complete gibberish to me, but sakerat assures me it's at least moderately intelligible, so I may just be suffering from the effects of writer's block. I'd like to hang onto it, clean it up and make it better, but there's no telling how long that would take (weeks, months) and __I'm trying to push through this stupid block, and keep the momentum going while I have it, so you're getting this bit so I can work on the next part._

* * *

><p>About the time Feliciano and Matthew were walking arm-in-arm along the banks of the river, their elder brothers were embarking on a little adventure of their own back at the castle.<p>

"Ok now, hold in tight." Alfred directed, settling back on his haunches and staring upward. "You ready for this?"

"I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm letting you do this." Lovino pressed himself flat against the prince's neck and shoulders, arms as far as they could go around the thick, furry neck, legs gripping him tightly, and craned his neck to stare upward, too. "This is _crazy._"

"Trust me, it'll be worth it." Alfred assured him, going up onto his hind legs to dig his claws into the stone and mortar, muscles heaving as he pulled them both up. Lovino's grip tightened as the prince's hind legs left the ground, which was growing farther and farther away with every passing second.

"This is in_saaaannne_." He whimpered, burying his face into the prince's thick ruff. "We're going to _die_."

"Dude, don't worry. I do this all the time." Alfred grunted, as pebbles and dust from displaced mortar rained down around them. "Even before I was cursed. I gotta admit though, it's a lot easier with claws."

Lovino lifted his head to peer up at the wall of the tower they were climbing. _Climbing_. He didn't know how Alfred was doing it, claws or no the stone wall was pretty fucking sheer and smooth. He glanced down, and wished he hadn't. They were already several hundred feet off the ground. "Remind me why we're doing this again, bastard?" He asked, voice pitched several octaves higher than usual.

"Because the view is _amazing_ from up there." Alfred reminded as requested. "Trust me dude, you've never seen anything like this. You're gonna love it."

Lovino wasn't convinced, but it was too late to back out now. They were already almost halfway up the tower, and cresting above the castle walls. He stared at the claws splayed across the wall above them, seemingly impossibly finding purchase _somewhere_ in the smooth stones, he didn't know how and was scared to ask, in case pointing out how impossible it was would make it stop working.

A little while later and they'd reached the top, and Lovino realized that the edge of the pointed roof above them overhung the tower, jutting out at an angle at _least_ four feet from the wall, creating an impassable overhang all around the circumference of the structure. How did Alfred plan to get over _that_, exactly?

His answer came when Alfred stopped about five feet below, and to Lovino's horror, leaned _backwards out from the wall_, stretching a foreleg out to catch the edge of the roof, and kicked off of the tower with his hind legs. For a breathless eternity they swung over an endless expanse, suspended over a thousand feet from the ground as they hung from what could _only_ be the most _tenuous_ of holds on the edge of the overhang, and Lovino was too terrifed even to scream. Then Alfred's other paw joined the first and he _heaved_, pulling them both up onto the roof.

"_There_." He said proudly. "Look at _that. _Nice, huh?"

Lovino didn't answer, too busy pressing his face deep into the fur of Alfred's neck, eyes screwed tightly shut in abject terror.

"It's really something, isn't it." Alfred continued excitedly, oblivious to his passenger's distress. "You feel like you can see to the end of the _world_."

"_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod."_

"I know, right?" Alfred agreed. "It's even more amazing in Autumn, when all the leaves change colour and the forest turns into a carpet of red and gold; or in the early mornings when mist covers up everything but the tower, and you feel like you're floating in an ocean of silver, and then the sun comes up over the horizon and the mist just _lights up_, it's totally indescribable Lovino, you gotta see it."

Lovino sniffled, wiping his tears on thick fur, and lifted his head. "_Oh."_

"I knew you'd like it." Alfred glowed, deeply satisfied with his success.

"It, it is pretty amazing." Lovino admitted quietly, gazing out over the view. Alfred had been right. It was like the entire world lay before him, earth and sky and ocean. He felt like if he looked hard enough, he would be able to see Prince Elizabeta and Papa Roderich's palace, and the cottage they used to live in, and the harbours where their fleet had set sail, and even the islands they'd been shipwrecked on. It was like all the events of their past were connected to where he was now; and looking out over it all, he could almost see how everything that had happened to them had brought them to this place, choice and chance and fate weaving together in a meandering but inevitable path which lead here, to this castle; and he had the strangest sensation that if he looked _just right_ he could tell what the future had in store for them, too. "Like a crystal ball." He murmured.

"Yeah?" Alfred tilted his head, peering at the endless horizon. "You're right, it does kind of seem spherical, doesn't it? Which is weird, considering that the world is flat 'n all."

"Actually," Lovino said, straightening, "Papa says there's enough scientific evidence that the world is round, like a ball. He and dad even sponsored an expedition and got some of dad's friends to sail around the world to prove it."

"Really? Cool! So did they? Prove it?"

"Well, not yet." Lovino admitted. "Half the ships fell off the edge, and the rest were eaten by a sea monster, so they weren't able to prove much."

"That would put a damper on things, yeah."

"But papa says the next expedition should do much better. He's got a guy working on designs for a special anchor to keep ships from going over the edge, and he's going to hire some monster hunters to go along. And maybe a magician, too."

"Sweet! That sounds like a good plan."

"Yeah. Papa says we can't let little setbacks like falling off the earth and being eaten by upstart creatures stand in the way of science." Lovino continued. "Papa says that science elevates the mind and music elevates the soul, and that's what separates us from animals."

Alfred blinked. "..._Antonio_ said all that?"

"_No_, idiot." Lovino rolled his eyes. "Papa_ Roderich._"

"Roderich is your other dad?"

"Roderich's our papa, and Antonio's our dad."

"Oh. Okay. That makes more sense. I mean," He admitted, "I haven't known Toni that long, but he's never mentioned science stuff."

"Dad doesn't do much science. He believes that all you need is love, and as long as you have something to eat and take a nap every day, things'll turn out okay."

"Haha, that sounds like Toni."

Lovino huffed a laugh, lips curling up just a little. "Papa says that it's a good thing dad has so much charisma, 'cause he doesn't have the brains God gave a fish."

"Aww, haha. Toni's not that bad."

"Easy for you to say, bastard." Lovino snorted, nudging his ribs with a heel. "You haven't lived with him."

"Yeah, but we've had some good talks." Alfred said, defending his new role model. "He seems pretty smart to me."

"Dad's not _stupid_, he's just an idiot." Lovino explained. "He's smart enough, sure, but he doesn't _think_ most of the time. And he can't read the atmosphere to save his _life_." He added, a little exasperated. "Or anyone elses'. Papa says he must have been dropped on his head a lot as a kid."

Alfred blinked. Lovino sure talked about his papa alot. If he remembered, Antonio had said that his ex was married to Prince Hedervary, now. Must be tough on Lovino and Feliciano, to be so far from one of their parents like that. "You must really miss him, huh. Your papa, I mean."

"...No." Lovino said after a moment, staring off into the distance with an odd little frown. "I don't particularly miss him, or anything. It's just, me and Papa and Feli were working on a project together when we left; 'cause, Papa read this theory that the Earth revolves around the sun, instead of the other way 'round. And so we were doing this study, making observations about the paths of the stars and planets, and gathering astronomical data and stuff like that, and I don't know how Papa's going to do it without us." His frowned deepened, and he continued in a rush, fingers flexing in thick fur. "And, me and papa had just started writing this symphony together, and papa said that maybe we could perform it together at the Hedervary Kingdom's National Festival. Papa says I have a gift for composition, and that with a little more training maybe we could write an opera together, too, and now I don't know who's going to help him finish the symphony. And papa says, papa says, p-papa s, says...p-papa..." He trailed off, and with a shuddering gasp, he buried his face into Alfred's ruff once more, arms wrapping tightly around the prince's neck.

Alfred sat silently, even as the fur at his neck grew progressively wetter, even after the boy's death grip on his neck loosened, even after the residual sniffles grew fewer and farther apart. Finally Lovino stirred, and lifted his head, staring with red-rimmed, puffy eyes at the back of the prince's neck.

"I'm thirsty." He confessed hoarsely.

"Okay." Alfred padded to the opposite edge of the roof, looking over the side. "We can-"

"There's _no way_ you can climb down from here, bastard." Lovino interjected, tensing in apprehension. "The roof hangs _way_ too far out, dammit."

"Not from where we were," Alfred reassured him, "but there's a balcony down there we can drop onto, see?"

Tentatively, Lovino leaned the barest of fractions to try and peer over the side of the roof to see if what Alfred said was true, but he couldn't see over the edge without relaxing his hold somewhat, and he wasn't willing to do that when they were over a thousand feet up and his grip on the prince was the only thing between him and splashy death on the ground below. "If there's a balcony, why didn't we use that to get up here instead, bastard?"

"'Cause I can't climb over the balcony from underneath." Alfred explained, rocking side to side slightly, gathering his haunches underneath him as he prepared to drop.

"That's not- Yiiee!" Lovino yelped as they dropped unexpectedly. Thankfully it was a short drop, only about 15 feet, and Alfred's catlike landing was very smooth, so he wasn't jostled at all. Lovino sighed in relief, slipping from the prince's back to hug the safe, secure stone of the (actually very nice, now that he could see it) marble balcony. Alfred glanced back at him over his shoulder, and turned to nose his head in concern.

"Dude, you okay?"

"Just saying hello to solid ground, bastard." Lovino answered, voice muffled in the marble.

"Haha, alright." Alfred twitched an ear back, a little bemused. "But when you're done with that, you'll have to get back on so we can climb down the tower."

"...What?" Lovino lifted his head to frown at the prince. "But this is a _balcony_. Why can't we just go inside and go down the stairs?"

"'Cause the door's locked from the outside." Alfred answered. "We can go in the room, but we can't get to the stairs from here. We have to climb down the wall."

Lovino groaned, thumping his forehead against the ground. "...Ow."

"That sounded like it hurt." Alfred observed helpfully.

Ignoring this, Lovino pushed himself off the ground. "Okay." He said determinedly, and trotted through the doors at the back of the balcony.

"Hey, where're you going?" Alfred asked, following after him. "I'm over here!" Walking out of the bright light outside and into the dark room in the tower, he nearly ran into Lovino, who stood just inside the door, hands on his hips as he surveyed the room.

"If I have to ride you down, bastard, I'm going to need something to tie myself on." Lovino explained, frowning at the contents of the room. "A rope or something." He stepped over to the curtains which hung on one side of the balcony window, fingering the thick corded silk pull that hung nearly to the floor, humming thoughtfully. "If this were longer..."

"There should be some rope under the bed." Alfred offered.

"Oh, okay." Crossing to the bed, Lovino crouched on the floor to peer under it. "Yeah, there's tons of it here. Nice." He pulled out a coil, examining it carefully. "This is good rope, too."

"Yep! We've got a great ropemaker on staff." Alfred informed him cheerfully. "We go through _tons_ of the stuff, so you can pretty much always find some laying around."

"That's convenient." Lovino nodded in approval, and stood. "Alright, c'mere." Alfred did so, and watched curiously as Lovino walked around him, trying to figure out the best way to tie himself to the prince.

"Okay. This is going to be easier if you sit down." Lovino decided, pressing down on the prince's hindquarters.

"'Kay." Alfred sat, and Lovino leaned forward to lay against his back, weaving the rope around both of their torsos, and between the prince's front legs for good measure, and tying it off as tightly as he could from his position. He wriggled a little when he had finished, testing the security of the bonds.

"I think that'll hold." He decided, trying to push himself up off the prince's back and not getting more than a couple inches' give.

"Yeah, feels secure to me." Alfred agreed, impressed with Lovino's rope skills. "Where'd you learn to tie ropes like that?"

"Dad taught me." Lovino answered, getting a good grip on the prince's fur in preparation for the climb. "Him and some of his sailor buddies. Good for storms and shit, when you need to lash yourself to something so you don't wash overboard. Or for prisoners, when you're pirating."

"Cool!" Alfred rose to his feet. "But piracy is totally illegal. Stealing is wrong!"

"Tell that to the fucking dock officials." Lovino muttered under his breath.

"The dock officials? They steal something from you?" Alfred asked curiously, being in possession of keen animal hearing and no sense of when things might not be meant to be heard.

"They tried." Lovino admitted as they padded towards the balcony. "Our whole fleet and profits from our last trading venture." He paused, frowning. "Y'know, dad still hasn't told us- wait wait wait!" He yelped as they leapt up onto the balcony railing.

"What?" Alfred craned his neck, trying to see the person on his back, balancing easily on the slim rail.

"Wait, wait...are you _sure_ the door inside the tower is locked, bastard?" Lovino whimpered slightly, looking down at the ground so very, very far below. The tower looked even higher than he remembered from up here.

"Pretty sure." Alfred answered.

"W-w-well, why don't we go check? Y'know, just in case."

"Climbing down would be faster."

"But...I like stairs!" Lovino exclaimed insistently. "_Really_ like them. They're...they're good exersize! And, and I've been riding all day. I, I need the exersize! So we should check. The door. To see if it's locked. Just to be sure."

"Well, okay."

Lovino closed his eyes as Alfred turned and stepped down from the railing, and didn't open them again until he was fairly sure they'd reentered the tower. "Okay. Let's, let's check the door."

"Yep, that's why I came inside." Alfred said as he padded to the heavy wooden door. "Checkin' the door." He pawed at the wrought iron handle, to no avail. "Yep, locked."

"Wait, let me try." Lovino reached for the handle. "Scoot over so I can reach, bastard."

Rolling his eyes, Alfred moved to stand sideways next to the door, so Lovino could lean over and yank on the handle; which he did for several minutes, cursing and swearing, before he finally gave up. "Yeah, okay, it's locked, dammit."

"Yep. Climbing's our only option." Alfred agreed, trotting back out to the balcony, leaping onto the railing. "Don't worry, we'll be down before you know it."

_Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of_. Lovino thought, tensing up under the ropes.

Alfred reached out with a paw, testing the wall beside the balcony for a good hold. He didn't know why Lovino was making such a fuss about climbing down, he'd seemed fine going up. A little nervous at first, but then he'd gotten into it. Just when he'd found a good hold to start with, a bang echoed across the courtyard, like someone had slammed open some shutters, and almost simultaneously his head snapped sharply towards to sound, nostrils flaring. He smelled-

"_Allllfrreeeddd!" _Mattie's voice was desperate and scared, and the scent of Ludwig's blood on the air was growing stronger by the moment. _Shit_.

"Wha-" Lovino started in surprise as Alfred doubled back on himself, body twisting around as he leaped down onto the balcony and ran into the tower room, picking up speed as they went. Before they hit the door Alfred doubled back again, spinning on his hind legs and tearing back towards the balcony. As they approached the railing and Alfred wasn't slowing down and the prince's muscles bunched underneath him Lovino suddenly knew, with dread apprehension, _exactly_ what he was going to do.

_"_Oh_hhhh shhhhiiiiIIIIIIIIIITT!"_ He shrieked as they arced over the courtyard.

He ran out of breath long before they hit the roof of the closest tower, hundreds of feet away and below. Alfred skidded briefly across the tiles, coiling like a spring; and they they were airborne once more. They bounded from tower to tower, one, two, three, and then Alfred was launching himself at a window in the castle wall—_ fuck _there was no _way_ they could make that and there was someone in the way and _they were __**going to die**_.

Suddenly everything became impossibly clear- the sun glinting off the glasses and pale golden hair of the man in the window, whose lavender eyes widened in comprehension even as he moved sideways, out of sight, leaving the way clear; the flutter of curtains as they soared through the window, the scrape of Alfred's claws against marble as they hit the floor, forelegs braced wide as they skidded, hindquarters folding under him as they spun in a 180 degree turn, claws scoring stone, sliding to a stop _just_ before they hit the opposite wall.

Lovino never untied a knot so fast in his life. The rope dropped to the floor and he slid from the prince's back, staggering to collapse into a nearby chair, where he could try to come to terms with the fact that he was still alive.

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><p>So much blood. There was <em>so much blood<em>. The scent of it hung thick in the air and on the furnishings, and he could smell a trail leading through the door into the corridor beyond. But most of all, it was on Matthew and Ludwig, a little of Matthew's blood but mostly Ludwig's, so much of it was Ludwig's. He shook his head to clear it, and scanned the room, taking in the doctor, Matthew, pale and shaken next to the window, Ludwig, bandaged, curled up and whimpering on the floor, in one glance. What had _happened?_

He looked at his brother. "Mattie."

"Oh god Al, there was so much blood and I thought I got it all but I was _stupid_ and Ludwig's hurt and-" Matthew babbled, shaking and teary-eyed.

_"Matthew."_ Alfred said sharply, and Matthew stopped, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"Ludwig's lost a lot of blood. We, we need to get him calmed down." He explained, a little more steadily. Alfred nodded, and turned to the man curled up on the floor, ordering,

"Mattie, go wait outside."

"What? No!" Matthew protested. "I want to-"

"_Mattie_." Alfred said firmly, brooking no disobedience, focused on his examination of Ludwig. "You're covered in blood. You can't help."

The younger prince's face twisted up, a strangled noise of frustration escaping him, fists and jaws clenching so tightly his skin went white. Alfred looked over at him, holding his gaze for a moment.

"Mattie." He said gently, voice softening. "I've got this."

Matthew closed his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks, and nodded, leaving the room.

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><p><em>AN: Lovino turned out to be a bit of a papa's boy, which surprised me at first until I thought about it a little. That may be explored in later chapters though so mum's the word for now. <em>_You may notice allusions not only to fairytales and stories, but historical ones as well, scattered throughout the fic. Hearts. _


	11. Closer Than a Brother

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

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><p><em>No, no, no, please God no, he'd thought this was over, it was so long ago, he didn't even <em>_**remember**__, he hadn't done it, they'd said it wasn't him, it __**wasn't his fault**__; but their bodies were everywhere, God they were __**everywhere**__, even when he closed his eyes he could still see them lying there so pale and bloody, eyes staring sightlessly, mouths gaping open, all dead, dead; they'd been innocent, so innocent and there were __**so many of **__**them**__, so many __oh God __and he was covered in their blood, blood was everywhere, on everything and all over him and in the air and on his skin and he could smell it and __**taste**__ it and it crawled on his skin and it was all his fault all his fault he could hear them screaming and he was covered in their blood and he couldn't get it out and he'd killed them, they were dead and __**he'd killed them**__ and Matthew, Matthew, he'd never meant to kill Matthew, hadn't meant to kill any of them but Matthew was covered in blood and __**he'd killed him**__, he'd killed Matthew, innocent Matthew, Matthew's blood was on his hands __**Matthew's blood**__ and-_

"Ludwig." Gold and blue filled his vision and he latched onto it, part of him calming, because Alfred was here, Alfred would know what to do, Alfred always knew what to do, Alfred could save them, save Matthew, save them like he'd saved him. Alfred would know what to do. Alfred could save _everyone_.

"Ludwig," came Alfred's voice, warm and gentle, and something warm touched his cheek, reassuring, "Ludwig, what happened? What's wrong?"

"I," he forced the words out through a throat tight with horror and guilt, "I, I killed them. They're dead, they're...they're all dead. I, I killed Matthew."

"Matthew's alive, Ludwig." Alfred's voice is filled with quiet surety, just like it was back then, when Alfred stood in between him and all those men, and he hears the echo of Alfred's voice then, "_It'll be alright, I won't let them hurt you."_ and he can trust that voice, Alfred would never lie to him, has never lied to him. "Nobody's dead. You haven't killed anybody."

Alfred's wrapping around him, his body firm and warm around him, supporting his weight as he melts back against the golden body, making him feel safe, he's safe now, he's protected, they can't get him, they can't come for him, Alfred won't let them; and relief is pouring over him because nobody's dead, it wasn't his fault, he didn't kill them, Alfred said so, and Alfred wouldn't lie to him, ever, Alfred _always_ tells the truth. Ludwig settles back against Alfred, letting his hands fall back into his lap, and his eyes widen, panic rising, _because they're covered in blood but that's not possible because Alfred said, Alfred said-_

"Ludwig?" The voice, filled with warm concern, vibrates against his back and side where he's pressed against the golden body, and fills his ears, and his heart is racing as he tries to press down the panic but _there's blood on his hands_, and he turns wide eyes on Alfred, Alfred can fix this, and shows Alfred the blood on his hands.

"There's blood," he quavers, terror swelling inside his chest because _no matter where he goes it follows him_ and he can't get away, and "it, it won't come off." He bites back a sob.

"Let me see," and Ludwig holds them up 'cause Alfred can fix this, Alfred can save him, Alfred always saves him, and Alfred lowers his head to Ludwig's hands. "It's just your blood, Ludwig." Alfred tells him, knowing, understanding the source of his fear, "You've been injured. But it'll be alright now, I promise. We'll take care of you." and Ludwig's terror subsides, because Alfred wouldn't lie to him and if it's his blood than it's not anyone elses', not Matthew's, and he didn't do it, Matthew's alive, it wasn't his fault, they couldn't come for him, because Alfred wouldn't let them, and neither would Matthew.

He watches as Alfred's tongue lathes across his palms and fingers, warm and wet. "There." Alfred says, lifting his head, and nuzzles his cheek, reassuring. "It's all gone. They're clean now." Ludwig looks at his hands. Alfred's right, the blood is gone. His hands are clean.

No-one is dead. Matthew's not dead. Matthew's okay.

Alfred saved them. Alfred _always_ saves them.

He closed his eyes, leaning against the solid warmth surrounding him. He heard voices in the background, someone talking to Alfred, but it didn't matter, wasn't important because everyone's safe now, and he was so tired, and Alfred would keep him safe.

"Ludwig," came Alfred's voice, low and gentle, "the doctor says we need to get you in bed."

"...tired." _So tired_.

"I know you are," Alfred soothes, "I'm tired too. But this floor is cold, Ludwig, and I want to sleep in the bed where it's warm. Can we move to the bed, Ludwig? Please?"

Alfred's cold, and Alfred wants to sleep in the bed, and he's _so tired_ but he owes everything to Alfred, so he'll do anything Alfred asks of him, _anything_. Ludwig struggled to his feet, not noticing Alfred supporting him, taking almost all of his weight as they moved to the bed, and Ludwig barely registered arms and paws and a muzzle settling him down into bed, or a warm body curling around him, a thick tail draping over him; and the last thing he was even vaguely conscious of before the darkness took him was turning into the heat of Alfred, burying his face in thick fur, wrapping his arm as far as it would go around the furry neck, and knowing that he was completely, utterly safe.

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><p><em>AN: It's short, and you may find it a bit difficult to read. <em>


	12. Unforgettable

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, history, romance, humor, parody, the English language, text or font, the concept of communication, or any of a plethora of other things I utilize and reference below, but hey. Give it time. **

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><p>As the door closed behind him, Matthew slid down the wall next to it, choking back a sob as he pillowed his head on arms folded across raised knees. He hadn't been able to help. It seemed like he was <em>never<em> able to help, when it came to Ludwig. No matter how hard he tried, it was always, always Alfred who...and Matthew _understood_ that, he did. After all, Alfred was the one who'd _saved_ Ludwig, who'd spoken out and stood in-between— but once, just...just _once,_ couldn't Matthew save Ludwig, too? He loved Ludwig as much as Alfred did. _More_, because _Alfred_ didn't understand, couldn't _see..._was so _blind_, sometimes.

But it'd always been that way, ever since they were little. Alfred saved Ludwig, and Matthew couldn't do anything but watch, and worry, and wish he could help. And it didn't mean anything to Alfred, because Alfred saved _everybody_. Alfred would save the _world_, if he could.

And Ludwig loved him for it. Ludwig's world _revolved_ around Alfred.

And he couldn't even hold it against Alfred, because...because he loved Alfred for it, too. It was who Alfred _was_. Alfred was stupid, and impulsive, and careless and thoughtless and really just a _complete_ idiot, but he was sweet and kind and idealistic and loving, and when he walked into a room it would just...light up. People _noticed_ Alfred, and people _followed_ Alfred, because that was who Alfred was. Alfred was...larger than life.

Between the two of them...sometimes...sometimes Matthew felt...invisible.

Unwanted.

Forgettable.

He knew they loved him, he did. But it wasn't...they couldn't...not the way...

He lifted his head with a sigh, drying his eyes on the torn cuff of his sleeve.

"Ve~, Mattie?"

His spirits lifted at the sound of the concerned voice, heart warming. Matthew's lips turned up in a tiny smile despite his distress as he turned his head to see Feliciano coming towards him down the hall, delicately arched brows furrowed in worry.

"Why are you out here? Is everything okay?"

"Ah, yes." Matthew drew his hand across his face and stood, smiling— a little weakly, true, but still, smiling— at Feliciano. "Alfred's in there with him. He'll be fine, now."

Feliciano's brows relaxed, and he smiled, softly, at Matthew. "I'm glad." He placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder, warm and gentle, and tilted his head. "Why don't we go find somewhere more comfortable to sit, and I'll patch up your wounds, okay~?"

"I'm alright." Matthew demurred, placing a hand over Feliciano's. "I'll be fine-" He was stopped by warm fingers pressed to his lips.

"If we don't clean them and bandage them, they could get infected!" Feliciano contradicted, pursing his lips. "And that would be very bad! I don't want anything to happen to you, Mattie!"

Matthew's lips twitched as he pulled Feliciano's hand from his mouth. "Alright." He acceded, kissing Feliciano's fingertips. "If you insist."

"I do." Feliciano nodded determinedly, causing Matthew's smile to widen further. "I want you to be healthy, Mattie."

"There's a drawing room three doors down," Matthew nodded in the direction the door lay, and started towards it, Feliciano on his arm, "we should be quite comfortable in there, eh? There's a couch and several chairs, we...Alfred and Ludwig and I sometimes relax in there on rainy afternoons."

"That sounds perfect." Feliciano nodded, smiling. Before they reached the door, though, he stopped short. "Oh! I forgot, I left the bandages in mister Ludwig's room!" He went up on his toes to press a quick kiss to Matthew's cheek, patting his shoulder. "You go on inside and get comfortable, and I'll go and fetch them real quick, okay~?"

"Feliciano." Matthew caught his hand as he turned to leave, and Feliciano looked back at him, curiously. When Matthew drew him into his arms he smiled, and leaned willingly into the kisses bestowed upon him, one, two, three; each sweeter and more tender than the last. After the third Matthew drew back, caressing his cheek, and Feliciano felt like he could lose himself in those beautiful lavender eyes.

"Thank you, Feli." Matthew said, eyes and mouth smiling softly (though still a little sad, but Feliciano understood, under the circumstances. It had to be hard to have a friend hurt so badly, and Matthew was _so_ sweet, it must hurt him deeply to see his friend hurting.) He smiled back, placing a hand gently over Matthew's heart.

"I want you to be happy, ve~." He blushed a little as he confessed, "I care for you, Mattie."

"R-really?" Matthew looked so hopeful and tentatively happy, and when Feliciano nodded, humming in affirmation, he smiled, cheeks flushing. "I, I care for you too, Feli. Very much."

"You do?" Feliciano breathed, clutching at Matthew's tunic for support as his knees went weak. Matthew cared for him! His prince cared for him already! Of course, it was destiny, so that was how it was _supposed_ to be, but it was still _wonderful_.

"Yes." Matthew confessed, arms tightening around Feliciano, drawing him closer, and leaned down again, eyes drifting shut. "Very much."

Feliciano's own eyes fluttered shut as the prince's lips met his, soft and sweet and passionate. His head swam, his heart racing in his chest, and Matthew's tongue was doing things to his that made his toes curl in anticipation, tingles of pleasure shooting down his spine. Matthew hummed in pleasure, low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest into Feliciano's, and _that_ made something low in his stomach flutter and his skin grow hot, and he leaned heavily against the prince for support.

"Oh_, Mattie_." He sighed once the kiss finally ended, resting his head against Matthew's chest. "The things you do to me, ve~."

"I assure you they are entirely mutual, eh?" Matthew breathed, a little dazedly.

After several minutes, Feliciano's head cleared enough for him to notice that one of the cuts on the arm in his field of vision was still bleeding, and that made him remember what he was supposed to be doing. "Oh!" He exclaimed, lifting his head. "I forgot your bandages!" Quickly, he bounced up on his tiptoes to kiss Matthew's lips. "I'll go and get them now. You go and wait in the sitting room, okay~? I'll be right back!"

"Okay." Matthew nodded, releasing him. He watched Feliciano patter down the hall, intent on ministering to his prince, and smiled.

Feliciano was wonderful. He was sweet, gentle, caring...sensuous..._beautiful_.

And he actually cared for him. Not Alfred, not Ludwig, but _Matthew_.

It was a nice feeling, to finally have his feelings returned.

He was definitely going to have to have a talk with Antonio. Feliciano...Feliciano was too good to let slip away. And if Feliciano felt even half as much for him as he already felt for Feliciano— and it seemed like he did— then they would be very, very happy together.

Well, he could only hope. He didn't even know if Antonio would approve, he admitted, smile fading. It _was_ a little soon, after all, and he hadn't gotten to know the older man as well as Alfred had during his short stay. Antonio may have trusted him to escort his youngest son on a walk through the gardens, but _this_ was something else entirely.

He sighed, turning to grasp the handle of the door, heart feeling heavy again as he thought of Ludwig's injuries. In the meantime, he would wait and worry. Same as always.

* * *

><p>Lovino felt awkward and out of place, an unintentional intruder on a private and intimate scene. It was pretty clear now that this 'Ludwig' <em>was<em> Alfred's princess. There was really no doubt about it, after what he'd witnessed. It was, it was...like something out of a story. A good one, the sort that made him cry and sneak off to read them over and over by candlelight, until he knew every word by heart and could see it when he closed his eyes. Except he didn't have to, because this wasn't a story, and it was happening right in front of him.

He watched, mesmerized, as Alfred soothed the hysterical 'princess', calming and reassuring him. He watched as the blond melted trustingly against the prince's side, responding to his voice and rising even when he was obviously exhausted, teetering on the brink of collapse. He watched as Alfred supported him, and along with the doctor, settled him gently into the bed, care and concern clear in every movement. He watched, blinking back tears, as the prince curled protectively around his princess, and the princess unconsciously turned to nestle close into his prince's side, his features relaxing into a peaceful expression; prince and princess together forming a picture of trust and security.

His vision blurred, his cheeks wet. It was, it was...beautiful. Touching, and poignant, and utterly romant-

"So, uh..." The doctor cleared his throat (completely _shattering_ the mood, damn him. Did he have no _soul?),_ "Does...does he do that often?"

"What?" Alfred looked over at the doctor. "Oh. No..." he looked down at the man pressed contentedly against his side, "not for a while, now. It's been _years_ since the last time."

"Hm." The doctor rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. "It may have been brought on due to the extreme blood loss, or even the head trauma, then. But now that he's resting, the worst should be over." He picked up his bag, snapping it shut as he prepared to leave. "Just make sure he gets plenty of rest, your highness. He's not to leave that bed for at least a _week,_ if you can keep him there that long. I'll leave directions for his diet with the kitchens, shall I?"

"That'd be great, thanks doc."

"Call me if you have any concerns, your majesty." The doctor bowed, and left (Lovino was happy to see the back of him, the soulless, mood-shattering bastard), and Lovino was alone with the prince and princess. Alfred looked back down at the sleeping form, and gripped the blankets in his teeth, pulling them up around Ludwig's shoulders and nuzzling them into place, before settling down with a sigh. Barely had his head touched the pillows, though, before a soft knock came at the door (and Lovino cursed the fates again- seriously, what the fuck was with the people in this castle and their inability to read the damn mood?) and the prince's head came up again, turning towards it as it creaked open.

"Ve~," (Lovino rolled his eyes. Of _course_ it would be his stupid brother. _Dammit,_ Feliciano. Didn't he have his own prince to attend to?), "I'm coming in for a moment~. I left the salve and bandages for Mattie's wounds in here." Feliciano smiled a little apologetically, leaning head and shoulders through the crack in the door. Alfred glanced at the table where the bandages and salve sat.

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead, Feli. No problem."

"Thank you~." Feliciano entered, gathering the supplies he needed to attend to his prince. "Is mister Ludwig feeling better now?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine now." Alfred answered. "He just needs some rest. How's Mattie?"

"Ve~, he's a little upset." Feliciano confessed, smiling a little sadly. "But he was sure your friend would be fine."

"Yeah." Alfred sighed, ears lowered. Poor Mattie. His brother would probably be taking this hard. He always did, when it involved Ludwig. "Thanks for looking out for him, Feli."

"I'm happy to do it." Feliciano reassured him warmly. "To do anything. I care for Matthew very much."

"Yeah?" Alfred cocked his head curiously. "That was quick. I mean, Mattie's awesome, and you two seemed to have some major chemistry going on there earlier, but y'know, you just met."

"Well," Feliciano clasped the salve and bandages in his arms, "sometimes you just know. And with Mattie and me, well...it's like," he lifted a hand to touch an exotic-looking flower pinned in his hair, and blushed,"...a dream come true."

"A dream, huh?" Alfred reiterated thoughtfully, tilting his head the other direction as the phrase pinged something in his memory. Then his eyes widened, and he gasped. "Crap!" His head swivelled around the room, searching until he found Lovino in his chair in the corner. He winced, ears flattening against his head, eyes sliding guiltily to the side. "Oh man, I'm so sorry Lovino, are you alright? I forgot you were there- I mean, not that you're forgettable, I didn't forget _about_ you, it was just that Ludwig was in trouble and Mattie-"

"Don't worry about it, bas- er, Alfred." Lovino interrupted gruffly, blushing and looking away, embarrassed over having intruded on the private moment between prince and princess, even unintentionally, and also kind of impressed by Alfred's attentiveness to his princess and embarrassed by the prince's attentiveness to him, "you had things to do. Important things."

"Yeah." Alfred looked down at the slumbering figure next to him, pale against his golden fur. "Ludwig's...Ludwig's very important." Ludwig was _family_. He and Mattie and Luddy, the three of them were all each other had. He pressed his nose against the other man's temple, closing his eyes. "I can't imagine life without him."

"Y,yeah..." Lovino blinked back more tears. A _real_ romance, right in front of him. _So_ much better than a book. He hoped he could find something like that, someday. Feliciano's soft 'Ve~' of sympathy shook him from his momentary lapse into stupidity, and he pushed himself up from the chair, taking Feliciano's arm and leading him from the room (because _he_ could read the damn mood, not being an idiot or a soulless bastard). "W-well, we should...let you get some rest."

"Tell the others we won't be down for dinner? I can't let him wake up alone. And, thanks again, guys. Really." The brothers paused at the door, looking back into the earnest blue eyes of the prince. "I'm really glad you guys came to live here."

Feliciano smiled, and Lovino nodded, each acknowledging in their own way, and softly closed the door behind them as the prince settled back down with his injured companion.

"Ve," Feliciano remarked as they started down the corridor, "I'm glad mister Ludwig is okay. Mattie will be so relieved. Were you with Al all this time? He seems very nice."

"He's something else." Lovino admitted as he walked alongside his brother, head full of thoughts of what he'd recently witnessed. "I have something good to tell you, later."

"Yes?" Feliciano shifted the bundle in his arms. "We have to bring these back to Mattie, first. His wounds need treating."

"Yeah?" Lovino responded distractedly, mind still in the room they'd recently left. The scene replayed itself over and over in his head. Alfred was...different, than he'd expected. Seeing him so kind and protective, gently supporting, it was easier to believe he was a prince. Sure, he was cute when he was frolicking in the grass with the rodents or smearing cinnamon sugar all over his whiskers, but there was something about the way he'd...

"-vi? Lovi? Lovi, are you okay?"

He blinked, coming back to the present to see his brother staring at him in concern, and frowned, shaking his head. "I'm fine, idiot. Just...tired."

"Mm, we didn't sleep much last night, did we?" Feliciano nodded in understanding. "Did you find the tomatoes, ve~?"

"Yeah." Lovino smiled unconsciously, in memory of the heaven he could now visit _whenever he wanted_. "Dad was right, there's _tons_ of tomatoes. It's _amazing_, Feliciano, wait 'til you see."

"That's-"

"But no animals in the greenhouse!" Lovino ordered, "Not even a bird! Or I'll revoke your greenhouse priviledges, got it?"

"Aw, but, Lovi-"

"No buts, dammit! We'll work out the rest of the rules later, but no animals in the greenhouse is_ non-negotiable."_

Feliciano pouted a little. "Okay~." Then he brightened, grabbing his brother's wrist. "There's the room Mattie's waiting in. Come on, brother; I need to bandage his injuries and tell him his friend is fine now~." He increased his pace to the door where his prince waited, Lovino stumbling behind.

"Oi! Stop dragging me around, dammit! I can walk on my own!"

"Sorry~!"

Feliciano's prince _was_ very handsome, Lovino had to admit. A little sad, maybe, but that was understandable under the circumstances. Prince Matthew, or 'Mattie' as Feliciano had introduced him, sat silently as Feliciano attended to his cuts and bruises, only a wan smile or soft word of thanks now and then passing his lips."There." Feliciano said, tying off the last bandage. "All finished,ve~." He pressed a kiss to the prince's forehead, smoothing golden hair back. "Now, we'll have a little wine, okay? It'll settle your nerves."

Matthew smiled up at him, leaning into his touch, and Feliciano caressed his prince's cheek. "Thank you, Feli." He covered Feliciano's hand with his own, and turned his head to press his lips to Feliciano's palms, his fingertips. "You're so good to me."

Feliciano smiled back, eyes shining, as they gazed into each other's eyes. "Not as good as you are to me, Mattie."

"I don't know about that." Matthew's smile turned wry, and his gaze flickered down for a moment, before looking back up. "This...this isn't exactly the welcome we'd planned, eh? I...we, we wanted things to be perfect for you. All of you."

"Oh, but-"

"Shit happens, bastard." Lovino intejected, retrieving a bottle of wine and pulling out the decanter and some glasses from the cabinet nearby. "It's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

"Lovi's right." Feliciano reassured him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "We're just glad your friend will be alright."

"Boys?" They heard Antonio's voice call from outside the door, which was soon flung open, and Antonio stood, flushed and worried-looking, in the entryway. As soon as he saw them, he sighed a little in relief. "Ah, you're here! I came as soon as I heard." He rushed across the room to Matthew and Feliciano, taking them both in a big hug. "Mattie! Feli! My poor babies!" He kissed their cheeks, and Matthew blushed and stammered a little, confused and unaccustomed to paternal-esque affection, or much affection of any sort, really, especially now that Alfred wasn't human. "Are you okay? I heard someone was hurt! What happened?" He drew back, and cast a worried gaze over to where Lovino stood, pulling another glass out of the cabinet for his father, looking his eldest son over to make sure he was okay. "Where's Al? And Ludwig?"

"We're fine, daddy." Feliciano reassured him, "Mister Ludwig was hurt, but Al's watching over him, and the doctor says he'll be okay."

Antonio melted with relief, kissing the two young men in his arms again, pulling them into another hug of paternal relief. "Okay. Don't scare daddy like that! I was very worried!" He released Feliciano, and turned to Matthew, who was blushing profusely at the unexpected attention. "Are you okay, Mattie? I know you three boys are very close. Were you very worried?"

"I, I," Matthew stammered, blinking rapidly, eyes suspiciously shiny. "I'm al-"

"If you need to cry, you can use my shoulder." Antonio continued concernedly, resting a hand on the younger man's head. "You're one of my boys too, now, Mattie. We're a family now, okay?"

Matthew lowered his head, and covered his face with a hand, shoulders shaking. Antonio knelt down next to him, and rubbed his back, soothing. "Shh, shh. It's okay, you can cry. You've had a tough time of it, haven't you. But it's okay, Mattie, Toni's here, now. I'm here for all my boys." He enfolded the young prince in his arms, and Matthew latched onto him, burying his face into the older man's shoulder. Antonio rocked gently, soothing him with meaningless sounds. Feliciano, eyes shimmering with tears, joined them, wrapping an arm around Mattie and one around his father, and they moved to make room for him, each wrapping an arm around him, as well.

Lovino felt bad for Matthew, and could appreciate what was going on, but he was still very glad there was a table between him and the others. He busied himself with finding a tray for the wineglasses, decanting the wine, cleaning up the leftover bandages and putting away the salve.

Matthew pulled away after a short while, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry," he sniffed, seeming to have recovered his composure. "I don't know what's gotten into me, today. I usually have more control than this."

"You've had a tough day." Antonio reassured him, ruffling his hair. "Now, why don't we all sit down. That couch and those chairs over there look very comfortable, don't they? We can have some wine and talk about things, and we'll all feel better, hmm?"

"Daddy's right." Feliciano said, taking Matthew's hand and smiling gently up at him, leading him to the couch. The others followed, and Lovino set the tray down on the table which sat between the couch and chairs. He poured, for something to do, and Feliciano passed out the glasses, and soon they were all settled, Antonio and Lovino into their own chairs and Feliciano curled up onto the couch next to Matthew.

"You two seem to be getting along well." Antonio observed, happy that his boys were playing so nicely. "Did you enjoy your walk in the gardens?"

"Oh, yes." Feliciano beamed, nestling against Matthew's side, and Matthew blushed again, this time from happiness, and smiled down at him, taking his hand. "We had a _wonderful_ time."

"That's good." Antonio smiled fondly at his babies, and then turned to Lovino, who sprawled in the other chair, staring into his wineglass with his habitual frown. "Lovi, I understand you and Alfred had a fight?"

"W-what?" Lovino hunching slightly in his chair, startled into defensiveness by his father's uncharacteristic perceptiveness. "No. How did you know about that, anyway?"

"Alfred told me." Antonio explained, and Lovino was keenly aware of the gazes of the two on the couch on him as well, now. "He came to the armoury a few hours ago, very upset because he'd been mean to you. He wanted to know how to make it better, and so we made you churros so he could apologise! Did it work? Did you forgive him for scaring you, Lovi?"

"You were scared of Al, Lovi?" His brother chimed in interestedly. "But how could you be scared of him? He's not scary at all! Al's so cute!"

"He, he threatened to eat me." Lovino defended, and looked away as he muttered almost unintelligibly, cheeks flushing, "O-or, m-marry me."

"Oh, maple." Matthew groaned, facepalming. "That sounds like something Alfred would do." He lifted his head to apologise to Lovino. "I'm _so_ sorry. If it makes you feel any better, he would _never_ actually hurt you. He just...sometimes he doesn't think before he opens his mouth, eh? He can be a bit childish, sometimes."

"I, it's alright." Lovino flushed again, looking into his wine. "We, we...he apologized, already."

"Still, I'll have a talk with him about that." Matthew insisted, frowning. "He's the crown prince, he needs to be more careful about how he behaves."

"Don't be too hard on him, Mattie." Antonio intervened. "He was very sorry for what he did. He didn't _mean_ to be bad, he just made a little mistake. Al's a good boy, really." He gestured dismissively. "Besides, I'm sure Lovi played a part in the whole misunderstanding, too. My baby takes things too seriously. He needs to lighten up!"

Lovino frowned, irritated. He didn't take things too seriously! What sane person _wouldn't_ be scared if a huge, fanged-and-clawed monster threatened to eat and/or marry them? Before he could protest, though, Matthew beat him to it.

"I think anyone would be scared if someone they didn't know threatened to eat them. _Or_ marry them." He pointed out, shaking his head at his brother's actions. (Lovino blinked in disbelief, feeling a little floored. Finally, someone who was _sane!_) "Even if Al _wasn't_ an enchanted beast - with huge fangs, by the way- it's not exactly polite behaviour. It was very inconsiderate of him, and _completely_ unbefitting of a prince, eh?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of mild exasperation. "He's been so excited about your coming to live with us, all of you- it's, well...you may have noticed, but...aside from the servants, it's only the three of us." He looked down, confessing almost reluctantly, "A, always has been. So, we've all been looking forward to, to having you come. And Al, well...he can get a little carried away when he's excited. But that's not an excuse for his actions, eh?" He looked up again, adding earnestly, "We want you to feel welcome here."

"We do, Mattie, really." Feliciano reassured, squeezing his hand. "We feel very welcome!"

"Feliciano's right." Antonio nodded with cheerful authority. "All of us feel right at home, Matthew. Let's all be one big family, okay?"

"I'd like that." Matthew smiled. Then he glanced thoughtfully at the young man curled against him, and seemed to come to a decision. "In fact..." He shifted in his seat to face Feliciano, taking both of his hands in his own, "I, I was kind of hoping to make the 'family' part...official, eh?"

"Ve...Mattie?" Feliciano's breath caught, eyes widening hopefully. "What do you mean?"

"Feliciano," Matthew started, blush steadily rising in his cheeks, "we haven't known each other long, it's true, but despite that, I feel like I've known you all my life. Like you said before, like it's meant to be."

"Sometimes you just know." Feliciano breathed.

"Yes." Matthew agreed, smile growing as he stood and dropped down on one knee in front of Feliciano, still clasping his hands.

Feliciano gasped.

"Mattie? Why are you on the floor?" Antonio asked worriedly, wondering if his newly-'adopted' son was feeling well. Did he need to be sick? "Don't you feel well? Do you need to-" His line of questioning was halted when Lovino leaned over to clap a hand over his mouth.

"_Shut up, idiot!" _Lovino hissed. Like _hell_ he was going to let his dad's cluelessness ruin Feliciano's moment. "He's trying to _propose_, dumbass!"

"Propose?" Antonio repeated, pulling his son's hand from his mouth, brows furrowing in confusion. "Who does Mattie want to marry?"

"_Feliciano_, you moron!"

"Oh!" Antonio gasped, eyes growing wide and sparkly. "That's so exciting!"

Lovino rolled his eyes, turning back to the others. "Sorry my dad's an idiot. Go ahead, bastard."

Matthew smiled, nodding once in thanks, and turned back to Feliciano. Taking a deep breath, he continued.

"Feliciano, you...everything about you, has captured my heart. Since the moment that I saw you, I knew I would love you, and I do. And everything you've said and done, every moment we've spent together has only made me love you more. So, Feliciano -pending your father's permission," he smiled tentatively over to his shoulder to where Antonio sat on the edge of his seat, eyes shimmering with tears, and Antonio, overcome with emotion, only nodded rapidly, "and your brother's," blinking rapidly, 'cause he had something in his eyes, and definitely _not crying_, Lovino nodded, gesturing for him to continue, and Matthew smiled gratefully, turning back to Feliciano; "I would be... deeply honoured to request your hand in marriage. Feliciano, will you marry me?"

"Oh," Feliciano gasped again, looking for a moment like he was about to faint, "oh, ve, ve, ve, I, I,"

"Feli?" Concerned and a little worried, Matthew moved to sit next to him on the couch, gently grasping his shoulders to support him, "are, are you alright? Was it too soon?" He swallowed, and looked down, "I'll, I'll understand if you don't feel the same way,"

"No!" Feliciano interrupted, waving his hands frantically, "I mean, yes! I mean, no it's not too soon, and yes I'll marry you! I _do_ feel the same way, Mattie!" He flung his arms around the prince's neck. "Yes, yes, I'll marry you, yes!"

"Y-you do? I mean, you will?" Looking like he couldn't believe his good fortune, Matthew held him tight, flushed and beaming in happiness, "That's, that's wonderful! You've made me very happy, Feli. V-very happy!"

"Oh, Mattie!" Feliciano melted in his arms, and they gazed rapturously into each other's eyes. Lovino could almost see hearts and flowers and sparkles shimmering all around them. Even he could admit it was cute. Disgusting, but cute.

"Aren't you going to kiss him, idiot?" He asked finally, tired of waiting.

Matthew laughed, leaning in to do just that, and Feliciano smiled, blushing happily as he tilted his head up to meet him. "Of course, ve~." Lovino rolled his eyes as their lips finally met. Seriously, they had to be _prompted?_ Some people didn't have the sense they were born with. Didn't they know how fairytales _worked?_

"This is wonderful!" Antonio exclaimed, clapping his hands. "To celebrate, daddy's going to make us something very special for dinner!" He leapt to his feet, throwing his hands in the air. "I must find the kitchens! Oh, my baby's getting _married!_ I'm so happy! All my boys are getting along so well!" He glanced over at Lovino, waving for him to join him. "Come on, Lovi- help daddy make the _best dinner ever_ for your brothers!" Lovino grunted, getting up and following his father from the room. He paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder.

"Congratulations, Feliciano. And you." He nodded at the prince.

"Ve, thank you, brother! I'm so happy!" Feliciano beamed, still wrapped in the prince's arms, and Matthew looked back to beam at him also.

"Yes, thank you...brother." Matthew said shyly, arms tightening around his fiance as his blush deepened.

Lovino blushed too, and nodded, ducking quickly out of the room to escape his embarrassment. He closed the door behind him to give the lovebirds some privacy, and frowned in thought. A new brother, huh? That...wasn't too bad. That would make Alfred his brother, too, now. And maybe Ludwig, since he was technically Alfred's princess, and it was only a matter of time before _they_ got married, too.

"Come on, Lovi! We have so much to do~!" Antonio called from further down the hall, and Lovino nodded, picking up the pace a little. He was going to have to make another trip to the greenhouse- an occasion like this called for _lots_ of tomatoes. Antonio threw an arm around his son's shoulders as he drew level, and Lovino allowed it, considering the occasion. "We should make something nice for Ludwig, too- he shouldn't be left out!" Antonio decided, and Lovino grunted in agreement. After all, family was family (even family _in potentia_), and everyone should be included in the celebration.

And after everything he had witnessed earlier, Lovino's heart went out to the poor princess, centered in such a tragic and beautiful love story. Not that he actually _cared_ about things like that, but it was _real_ and _beautiful_ and the poor princess had suffered so, and, well... it'd be a while before he recovered, and everything, so it must be tough on him; especially with Alfred having eaten the cure, and being stuck in his beast form. Although he had no doubt that true love would win out in the end, and Alfred would regain his true form eventually- that was how these things _worked_.

But in the meantime, he thought, this might help cheer the poor princess up.

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><p><em>AN: I might add an author's note later, 'cause I know there were some things I wanted to mention, but work has drained my brain so for now- Author's Note Pending!<em>


	13. Older and Wiser

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

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><p>Ludwig opened his eyes, and then promptly closed them again when pain ricocheted through his skull. He groaned miserably, burying his face into the fur of his pillow in an attempt to escape the sharp, stabbing, excruciating sensation that started at his temple and shot through his brain to bounce off the back of his skull and back again, in a seemingly endless loop. He twisted his fingers into warm fur, clutching it tightly and whimpering as he rode out the pain. Something soft, warm and wet lathed over the side of his face, reassuring and soothing. His pillow pulled him closer, and he relaxed a bit in its embrace, breathing deeply of the familiar, warm scent that made him feel safe and secure. Soon the pain subsided to a dull ache, and he sighed, burying his head into the underside of a furry hollow and tentatively opening his eyes, hoping the shadowed sanctuary would be easier on his eyes, and shield him from a repeat of his earlier painful experience.<p>

It worked, but his eyes hurt, he noticed. His eyelids hurt. His skin hurt. His _hair_ hurt. His...he stopped categorizing it, realising that he ached _all over_, inside and out; worst of all his head and his right temple. For several long minutes he thought no further, blinking blankly at dim golden fur and sheets, breathing slowly in and out in sync with the slow, restful rise and fall of his pillow.

Absently, he wriggled closer, digging his toes into fine, soft fur, wiggling them against the soft warmth of the pillow. A warm, moist puff of air wafted over his ear in response.

"That tickles, Luddy." His pillow said, which was not his pillow at _all_, because _Alfred was __**in his bed**__._ His eyes widened, and he lashed out reflexively with a foot, catching the prince somewhere warm and soft and vulnerable, which made him yelp and thrash awkwardly, rolling backwards off the bed.

Ludwig pushed himself up, snatching the covers up around his neck, clutching them protectively. "_What were you doing in my bed!"_ He yelped, his voice several octaves higher than usual.

"Ow! Shit! Fuck!" Alfred cursed from the floor.

"_Language_, your majehh...ssss," Ludwig attempted to scold, even as his eyes rolled back in his head and the world went swimmy. He swayed for a moment, head lolling, and started to fall sideways off the bed.

"Shit!" Alfred swore again, placing his forepaws on the bed and propping up his steward and friend with his head, pushing him back up into a sitting position. "Ludwig! You're supposed to be resting!"

"Cappa rio swordfish." Ludwig argued determinedly but incoherently, brows furrowing severely even as he sank slowly backward onto the bed. Alfred steadied his fall, guiding him gently back onto the pillows (non-furry). "Du hast mich."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." Alfred agreed, butting another pillow under Ludwig's head with his nose. "Du hasst swordfish."

"_Du_ _hast mich."_ Ludwig sighed in correction, slurring slightly, his eyes drifting shut. "Du hast..."

"Du hast mich to you too, Luddy." Alfred assured him, leaping back onto the bed and settling down alongside his friend with a wince. "Y'know, for a sick guy, you kick like a fucking mule."

There was no response, as Ludwig was too busy sleeping to reply. Alfred watched him, ears flicking idly back and forth to catch the ambient sounds of the castle and its environs as his mind wandered. Ludwig wasn't going to be happy about having to spend a week in bed. He hated sitting idle. He'd do it though; he was good at following directions, even when he hated them. Ludwig followed rules like they were law, or something.

The room still smelled like blood. The others wouldn't be able to smell it, but for him it hung thick in the air, saturating the bedclothes and his fur. It made his skin itch and his stomach uneasy. Not that he disliked the smell of blood, usually; it wasn't _bad_, it was just...it was hard to describe how it smelled to him now in this new body without creeping people out, but this was different. It was _family_ blood, Luddy's and Mattie's, and that made his protective instincts ride high and his senses alert, even now, when he was pretty sure everyone was safe. He had to stifle the urge to find everyone and drag them back to the bed, so he'd know where they all were and that if anything happened he'd be there to protect 'em. His brain knew they were okay, but his animal instincts were telling him to make sure. But Antonio was here— he'd heard him singing down in the kitchens a few hours ago, someone must have left the kitchen windows open— and Antonio knew how to fight, so he trusted him to take care of the others if anything went wrong. He'd heard the muffled sounds of Mattie and Feli down the hall for a while, too, until they'd left the drawing room and went elsewhere.

They seemed to be getting along well. That was nice. He wondered if Mattie had had a dream, too, like him and Ludwig. He'd found his dream guy, although Lovi didn't seem to recognise him. Good thing he'd gotten the tomatoes ready, 'cause _damn_ if Lovino didn't seem to have a hard-on for them. Crap! He'd forgotten to show him the library! Well, he could do it later. Or Mattie could do it, he was usually pretty on-the ball about shit like that. Hospitable and shit. He had the prince stuff down pat.

_Fuck_. Mattie's _training!_ _Fuck!_ What were they going to do _now?_ Luddy was down for the count and he couldn't do it, not in this body, not effectively. That was why Luddy was doing it in the first place! _Shit_. That was going to cost them in the tournament. _Damn_. Well, maybe he could think of something. He could...work on his resistance training. Horsemansh- no, he couldn't be around horses anymore, he them nervous (except for Luddy's horse, which didn't like him but wouldn't bolt when he was around; and come to think of it was probably why Mattie had been training on it). Have him run laps, then. Stamina and shit. It wouldn't be perfect, but it'd be something, until Ludwig recovered and was able to take over the more practical lessons. Mattie wasn't bad or anything, but he would be up against some very tough competition.

He sighed, arching his neck and flexing his paws. It was getting dark out. It was surprising Mattie hadn't been by to ask what they wanted for dinner, yet. Or hover around Ludwig, fussing with his bandages and holding his hand and generally mothering the shit out of him; and fussing at him, Alfred, for being too loud.

Wait, no, it made sense. Their family was bigger now, Mattie had more people to fuss over. That was...kind of cool, actually. He couldn't help twitching his tail a little, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought. It was nice to have more people around. Antonio and his sons were so interesting, too. Things would be very lively from now on, with them around.

Ludwig groaned a little and opened his eyes to frown at the ceiling. Slowly his gaze drifted down, to the foot of the bed, the covers, and then lit on Alfred. His eyes grew wide.

A few moments of yelling and flailing later, and Alfred was picking himself up off the floor again, wincing a little at the bruise that was now blossoming on his side below his ribs, and moving to catch Ludwig before he rolled off the bed in a swoon.

"I _swear_," he grunted, as he nosed his dizzy steward back into bed, "this was a lot _easier_ before you and Mattie got all _weird_ about letting me in your beds."

"'S 'm'proper." Ludwig slurred, flopping bonelessly across his pillows. "Not 'propriate."

"I don't see why not." Alfred sulked, ears flat and sullen as he tucked Ludwig's arm against his side and pulled the covers up over him. "It never bothered you before. We used to sleep together all the _time_."

"'S di'fr'nt." Ludwig frowned unfocusedly at the ceiling. "We're old'r."

"So?" Alfred huffed, nosing a pillow into place. "I'm older too, and it doesn't bother _me."_

"'S diff'rent." Ludwig repeated. "N't th'." He sighed, tiredly, blinking slowly. "Same."

"Whatever." Alfred settled down next to him on the bed, head on his paws, sulking sulkily at the headboard. After a little while Ludwig's hand found his neck, his fingers running slowly, clumsily, through thick fur, occasionally slipping down to scratch behind his jaw. Alfred sighed, relaxing a little, even as he reflected a little sadly that if he wasn't covered in fur he'd be on the floor again by now.

It was weird, but it seemed like Ludwig and Mattie liked him better now that he was a beast. They used to hold him at arm's length before, always pushing him away when he tried to hug them or wrestle or join them in the bath or in bed like they had as kids, but after his change they...thawed, a bit. They still didn't take baths with him or let him in their beds for very long, but at least sometimes they pet him or played with him or groomed him (Ludwig, mostly, but sometimes Mattie, too). It was kind of nice, but he missed the days when they all used to do everything together. Back when Mattie and Luddy used to sneak through the halls late at night, carrying their pillows to join him in his room, and they'd pile in next to him in his ridiculously big crown prince's bed, and they'd pillow fight and wrestle or just lay there talking until they fell asleep, and Mattie and Luddy would hold his hands 'cause they said it made them feel better when they knew he was there. Then they'd wake up and sneak down to the kitchens, and Mattie would cook them a snack (cause he and Luddy were hopeless at it, no matter how they tried, though it was hilarious to see Ludwig's disgruntled face when they found something he couldn't do), and they'd go and play in the garden before the servants called them in for breakfast and lessons. And after lessons, they'd play in the gardens or forest, wrestling and climbing trees and making forts and doing all kinds of stuff 'til it was time for dinner, and then after dinner, their bath, and then bed, and it'd start all over again.

But then around when he turned thirteen Mattie stopped coming to his room to sleep, and decided he was too old for baths together, or wrestling or things like that. Ludwig stuck around a little while longer, but by the time he'd turned fourteen he was 'too old' for beds and baths and wrestling, too.

Alfred wasn't sure why they'd grown out of those things and he hadn't, or why getting older meant you couldn't spend time together anymore, but he suspected books had something to do with it; because around the time that Mattie and Ludwig had gotten 'too old' for things they'd also started studying a whole lot more. Everytime he wanted to go and play or take a bath or do _anything_ with them really, they'd always say they had studying and reading to do. Every. Single. Time. He'd almost have suspected they were trying to avoid him, except they seemed genuinely apologetic about it half the time, and irritated the other half, and seriously, who in their right mind would prefer _studying_ to playing? It wasn't like he smelled or anything; he'd checked. And about that time they'd developed an obsession with protocol, too— not that it hadn't been important to them before, Mattie and Luddy had always been sticklers for rules and things like that— but it'd ramped up to a whole new level, and it seemed like every new rule was another reason he wasn't supposed to get close to them.

He hadn't minded studying too much before that, but he started to resent it for taking away his brothers (well, Luddy was a friend, but he was _practically_ a brother. He'd gotten upset, though, when Alfred had told him that once, the _one_ time he'd let Alfred into his bed shortly after he turned 16; so Al was careful not to tell him that anymore). So he steered well clear of books, because he didn't _want_ to learn whatever it was that they taught you that made you 'too old' for sleeping with people and baths and playing together. He didn't _want_ to learn or follow stupid protocols that meant people had to bow when he walked past and couldn't touch him or talk to him unless he talked to them first. Rules like that were _stupid_, and he didn't understand why they were so important to Mattie and Luddy.

In some ways, he thought, even as the hand petting him stilled, sliding down his shoulder to rest against the bed as Ludwig fell asleep once more, turning into a beast was one of the the best things that ever happened to him.

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><p>"Alright, dinner's done." Lovino announced, even as his father stepped back and clapped his hands together in satisfaction at the look of the dish he'd just pulled from the ovens.<p>

"We did good." Antonio agreed, rubbing his hands and beaming at the array of food covering every available surface above the floor. Then he frowned. "This should be enough for the six of us, right? Are Al and Ludwig going to make it to dinner?"

"The princ- er, Ludwig can't, dad, I told you." Lovino frowned, considering the dish he'd made for the injured princess. The poor bastard was supposed to eat spinach and liver and _ugh, _worst of all, _potatoes_, for the first couple of days while he was in bed, according to the directions the doctor had left. He'd done his best, insisting on making the dish himself so he could try and make it as delicious as it was possible to make liver and potatoes, sauteeing them with bell peppers and onions and spices, and he'd done a good job, they were almost good enough for _him_ to eat, but _ugh._ He'd been tempted to leave the potatoes out, for the princess' sake, but the directions had been _very_ insistent that they were important. His frown deepened as he prodded a bit of potato. Well, later on in the week they could switch to catfish, at least, instead of liver, so that was something. And the list _hadn't_ said he _couldn't_ have tomatoes, so he'd added a few fresh, sweet cherry tomatoes to the garnish.

"Oh, well." Antonio sighed, almost frowning a little himself. "A celebratory dinner isn't the same without the whole family here, but if he can't come he can't come."

"It's not his fault, bastard. He lost a lot of blood." Lovino reiterated, covering the dish to keep it warm. "I don't think he's even conscious right now."

"Mmm." Antonio hummed, still almost-frowning a little disapprovingly as he settled dishes on a tray to carry out to the dining room. "All I know is, if it were _my_ brother's celebratory dinner, _I'd_ be there."

"He doesn't even know they're engaged." Lovino pointed out, setting the princess' food aside to carry up separately. "And it's not like this is an official celebration. He'll be recovered in time for the engagement party."

"Well, _Alfred_ will be there at least, right?" Antonio asked again. "Nothing happened to _him_."

"I don't know, dad." Lovino pulled out some more trays, loading them with dishes as well. He was pretty sure Alfred wouldn't want to leave his princess' side, not while he was injured like that. He'd probably stay there night and day. "I think he'll want to stay with Ludwig."

"It's not much of a celebratory dinner if it's just the four of us." Antonio _did_ frown, then, a little upset that the whole family wasn't there for the family celebration.

"What do you want us to do, crash Ludwig's bedroom and eat there?" Lovino asked, sarcastic and a little exasperated, tired of trying to explain the concept of '_extenuating circumstances_' to his father.

Antonio's face lit up. "That's a _wonderful_ idea!"

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><p><em>AN: Yeah. Don't get too used to Lovi being solicitious of Ludwig. I don't think it'll last. Extenuating circumstances, and so forth. <em>


	14. He'll Make a Man Out of You

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

_Going to try and keep it as simple as possible under the circumstances and not let the story get too much more complicated than it already is. Do your best, me! _

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><p>"Oh Mattie, oh Mattie, oh <em>Mattie,<em>" Feliciano sighed, head falling to the side as wet heat closed around the soft skin of his throat. "I love you _so much_."

"_Mmmh_," Matthew hummed, his arms tightening around Feliciano's waist, pulling him closer. "Say it again," he begged, peppering kisses over his fiance's neck and the exposed part of his right shoulder, "say it again, Feli."

"I— ah!, I love you," Feliciano shivered, and curled his fingers in the prince's hair as he breathed, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you too," Matthew promised against his skin between kisses, "I love you, Feliciano." Feliciano's skin flushed, and he felt giddy with happiness and the sensations assaulting him under the prince's touch. He slid his hands down to Matthew's broad shoulders, and wriggled forward in his lap until he could feel how badly his prince wanted him pressed against the junction of his thigh, and clutched the prince, gasping.

"_Mattie!"_

_"I'm telling you, this is a bad idea!"_ Suddenly two pairs of eyes flew open, hearts racing with alarm as much as passion, as the unmistakable sound of Feliciano's brother and father's arguing echoed through the corridor outside.

_"Oh, come on, Lovi, Don't be silly! What could possibly be so bad about a family celebration! Families should be together! __**Especially**__ on such a happy occasion."_

"I'm so sorry, Feli, I," Matthew sputtered, pulling back, mortified and ashamed. Feliciano's dress hung loose on one shoulder, skin soft and warm and glistening, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright and mouth open and panting, and Matthew's shame and desire increased at the sight, but he was a _prince_, and trained to behave properly. "I shouldn't have—" Feliciano pressed a hand against his lips, smiling gently.

"Don't be sorry, Mattie." He reassured softly, eyes twinkling mischeviously. "I'm not." He slid his arms around his prince's neck, pressing close, and tilted his head up to brush his lips across Matthew's. "We're not doing anything wrong. We're engaged, right? That's practically married, ve~!"

"Th-that's true." Matthew agreed, swallowing. Feliciano's lips were so close, soft like petals and moist and sweet as fresh berries...but he could hear the others growing closer, their footsteps weren't far, now. "And we _will_ be married soon..."

"Mhm." Feliciano smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his prince's lips, and pulled away to pull his sleeve back up. "So it's okay."

Matthew was too shaken to reply, although his conscience was telling him that the others might not agree with that _perfectly reasonable_ arguement, and so he lifted Feliciano off his lap and stood. They busied themselves straightening clothing and hair, endeavouring to look less like they'd been doing anything that might be considered inappropriate and more like they'd been having a quiet cup of tea and conversation, or something equally innocent, and joined the others in the hall.

Lovino eyed the two as they entered the hallway, noticing their flushed faces, bright eyes and slightly-out-of-breath-ness, and the way the side of his brother's neck was suspiciously reddened and glistening. Well, he shrugged mentally, they were going to be married pretty soon. After all, Prince Matthew was Feli's _prince,_ his True Love and everything; so it was only natural that they should be irresistibly attracted to each other. And it wasn't like anything could _possibly_ happen to separate them now that they'd found each other. Feliciano'd gotten his prince, and Lovino was happy for him. He even liked Prince Matthew, who seemed kind and gentle and deeply in love with Feliciano; which was to be expected, of course, but it was still nice to see his brother's Happily-Ever-After turning out so well.

Antonio, unsurprisingly, was oblivious to the young men's ruffled state, and cheerfully incorporated their assistance in bringing dinner to Ludwig's room so they could all celebrate together.

Alfred was pleased to see them, and thrilled (though surprised) to learn that Matthew and Feliciano were already engaged. He was profuse in his congratulations, and tackled both of them to the floor for a thorough licking in his excitement, sending Feliciano into fits of giggles, and then Antonio decided that everybody needed hugs and kisses from daddy, too, until finally Lovino reminded everyone that they were supposed to be being _quiet_ so they didn't bother the injured Ludwig, who, surprisingly, had remained asleep through the whole thing. Once everyone was settled down, Alfred returned to his task watching over Ludwig and the others went back to setting up the dinner they'd brought.

Alfred watched curiously when Lovino moved away from the others and came around the bed to set a covered dish down on the bedside table. "Is that for me?"

"No, this is for him." Lovino nodded towards the sleeping 'princess'. "It's that junk he's supposed to eat to make him better."

"Lovi worked very hard on Ludwig's dinner." Antonio commented proudly. "He wouldn't let anyone else do it, because he wanted it to be perfect. Isn't that sweet?"

"Really? That was really nice of you, Lovino!" Alfred said, and Lovino blushed, embarrassed.

"I just...didn't want the— him to have to eat bad food." He frowned at the dish. "I did what I could, but it's still liver and potatoes. That's all he's supposed to eat."

"Well, it smells delicious." Alfred sniffed, licking his chops. The smell was making him drool and reminding him that he hadn't eaten in quite a while. "_I'd _eat it."

"This isn't for _you_, bastard." Lovino said pointedly, putting his hand on the dishcover. "Your food is over there." He pointed to where Antonio was arranging the rest of the meal.

"How is he?" Matthew came over to hover anxiously over the two on the bed, laying a hand on Ludwig's forehead to check his temperature.

"Completely zonked out." Alfred answered frankly, shifting closer and laying an arm across the pillows above Ludwig's head. "He's woken up a couple times, but he's kind of delirious. He keeps babbling nonsense."

"Hmm." Matthew frowned, checking the bandages. "He's so pale."

"Well, he lost a lot of blood." Alfred sighed, laying his ears back. "I don't think he remembers anything that happened, though."

"That's probably for the best." Matthew murmured, stroking Ludwig's hair. Seeing Matthew's distress, Feliciano came to stand next to him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "He is very pale, but he already looks much better than he did earlier." He observed, peering curiously at the pale figure he'd helped clean and dress earlier.

"He does." Matthew agreed, frown relaxing slightly. "It's nice to see him resting peacefully."

Privately, Lovino thought that the poor guy would be able to rest a whole lot more peacefully without everyone in his room noisying things up, but there was no stopping Antonio when he got an idea in his head (well, Papa Roderich could do it, but he was the only one, and unfortunately he wasn't here).

"There we go!" Antonio stepped back from the cabinet, setting his hands on his waist and nodding in satisfaction. "That's everything. Oh, wait, no— did you get the wine, Lovino?" He asked, turning to his elder son.

"Oh, yeah." Lovino nodded, pulling the basket he'd carried up from the kitchen off his arm and heading over to set it up next to the food.

"Oh, his lashes are so _long!"_ Feliciano noticed, releasing Matthew to lean over Ludwig admiringly. "They're so pretty! I'm a little jealous."

"Oh?" Antonio came to nudge his son aside so he could hover over the comatose blond as well. "Let me see!" True to Feliciano's observations, Ludwig's eyelashes were almost ridiculously long, thick and golden, and very pretty to behold. "Wow, they _are! _They're like little butterfly's wings~! I didn't notice that before. How cute!"

"They are, aren't they." Alfred agreed with a touch of proprietorial pride, gazing down at the man sleeping next to him. "Luddy's really pretty when he sleeps."

"Ludwig's always beautiful, Alfred." Matthew corrected from his place at Feliciano's side, gently brushing the steward's bangs down to cover his bandages. "You just never notice, eh?"

"It's just easier to notice when he's sleeping." Alfred explained. "When he's awake he always has his guard up, and he's always frowning and bein' all stern and stuff. When he's asleep he's all relaxed and peaceful."

"You're right, Alfred. Ludwig is very pretty when he's sleeping." Antonio smiled, fidgeting a bit as he hovered. "Can I touch him? Will he wake up?"

"Yeah, sure." Alfred smiled, wiggling his tail against the covers, adding when Feliciano looked at him hopefully. "You both can touch him. He won't wake up, as long as you're quiet."

"Of course!" Antonio affirmed, brushing his fingers across Ludwig's lashes. "Oh, his skin's so soft! And what pretty lips he has, too! Look, Lovi, isn't Ludwig pretty?"

Lovino lifted a shoulder, grunting noncommittally. He couldn't really see Ludwig from where he was standing, especially since the others were all crowded around him (he'd seen him earlier, sure, but no-one looked their best when they were undergoing major trauma); but he was a _princess_, so it was only logical that he would be pretty. Just look at Feliciano, and Papa Roderich.

"Oh, it _is_ soft." Feliciano exclaimed, touching his cheek gently. "I'm really jealous, now!"

"Enjoy it while you can." Matthew warned, smiling. He was as proud of Ludwig's good looks as Alfred, but he couldn't help his amusement at the thought of what Ludwig's reaction would be if he were awake. Their steward would be mortified to be admired and petted like this. "He won't let you do that when he's awake."

"Yeah, he gets all embarrassed." Alfred snickered. "Luddy's pretty shy."

"Awww, that's so cute!" Antonio cooed, petting Ludwig's hair. "All my boys are so cute! I'm so lucky to have such cute children!"

"Are we ever going to _eat_?" Lovino complained. "I'm fucking _starving_."

"L'n'ge, y'r m'jsty..." Ludwig murmured, shifting in his sleep.

"Awwww, look Mattie, he's sleep-nagging." Alfred and Matthew grinned at each other, and gazed fondly down at their longtime companion. "Isn't that just the cutest thing."

"It _is_ cute, but Lovi's right, we should eat." Antonio regretfully ceased his petting, and went back to the cabinet. "You boys sit down, and Lovi and I will make you plates, hm?"

"Thank you, Antonio." Matthew smiled, and then paused to frown down at Ludwig, and glanced at his brother. "Erm...should we wake him?"

"Yeah, probably. He's gotta eat." Alfred pushed himself up and lowered his head to nudge Ludwig's shoulder, and then paused, ears flicking back hesitantly. "Um, you know what, maybe you should do it, Mattie. Everytime he wakes up he gets all freaked out that I'm in his bed."

Hearing the prince's voice so close to his ear, Ludwig's eyes flickered open, and he turned his head to see Alfred's face close to his own. His eyes widened, and he took a sharp breath, and a few eventful seconds later, Alfred was pulling himself up off the floor, and Matthew was settling Ludwig down.

"H's majehssty sh'n't be'n my bed." Ludwig slurred to the attentive younger prince, who hummed sympathetically as he propped the injured man up with pillows. "It isn't, it isn't prop'r."

"Shhh, I know, you're right. He shouldn't have been in your bed. It won't happen again." Matthew soothed, settling him into a sitting position. "Alfred should have known better."

"Well what was I _supposed_ to do?" Alfred flicked his ears back sulkily, licking his bruised side. "It's not like I can sit in a chair. Besides, I kind of had to, to get him into bed."

"I know, but it isn't proper for you to stay in his bed, Al." Matthew sighed, fussing with Ludwig's covers. "You should have called me once he'd calmed down."

"Now, Mattie, I don't see why Al and Ludwig can't share a bed." Antonio interjected, handing Lovino a couple of plates and indicating that he should carry them to Feliciano and Matthew. "You boys are brothers, after all. Lovi and Feli share a bed all the time!"

"We do." Feliciano agreed cheerfully from his chair, smiling up at his brother as Lovino handed him his dinner. "Me and Lovi _always_ sleep together."

Lovino flicked his brother's forehead. "That's just 'cause you never stay in your own damn bed, idiot."

"Ve~." Feliciano rubbed his forehead, smiling unrepentantly.

"There, see? _They_ do it." Alfred leaned his head and forepaws on the bed, giving Matthew and an confused Ludwig his best puppy eyes.

Matthew's lips thinned, and he frowned as he uncovered Ludwig's dinner. "It's not the same, Alfred."

"_Whatever_." Alfred huffed, slinking off to sit next to Antonio, who patted him absently on the head.

Ludwig accepted the plate that Matthew handed him, settling it into his lap with care, and glanced around the room, confusion clear. "What...what's going on?"

"We're having dinner in here tonight, Ludwig." Matthew pulled a chair up next to the bed, and adjusted the plate in Ludwig's lap so it was more secure as he explained, "Antonio thought the whole family should be together to celebrate. You see, Ludwig, Feliciano and I are engaged. We're going to be married." He smiled over at Feliciano, who beamed back.

"Oh." Ludwig paused. "Feliciano?"

"Antonio's youngest." Matthew elaborated. "They've come to live with us, you remember? I've asked him to marry me, and he's agreed."

"Oh." Ludwig seemed to take a few moments to think this over. "Congratulations." He decided was the appropriate response, and stared at the plate in his lap with a puzzled frown, as if he wasn't sure how it'd gotten there or what to do about it. "What is this?"

"That's your dinner." Matthew said helpfully. "The doctor put you on a very specific diet, Ludwig. Antonio's son Lovino prepared it for you specially. Oh, here, let me get that for you." Seeing that Ludwig was having trouble understanding, or even holding his fork, Matthew took over, taking the utensil from his hands and lifting his dinner from his lap. "I'll help you eat, okay?"

"Your highn'ss," Ludwig attempted to protest, swaying slightly as he leaned back from the forkful of liver the younger prince offered. "I am p'rfectly culpable of eating m'self."

"Be reasonable, Ludwig. You've been injured, eh?" Matthew coaxed in the face of his friend's stubborn frown. "Just let me do this for you."

"'S _embarrassing."_ Ludwig muttered, his frown edging on the verge of pouting.

"Honestly, Ludwig, you're acting like a child." Frustrated, Matthew appealed to his brother. "Al, help me out here."

"Luddy, let Mattie feed you." Alfred ordered, following Antonio to a chair. Ludwig pursed his lips briefly, but obediently opened his mouth, allowing the younger prince to feed him.

"Mm," Ludwig's eyebrows lifted in surprise as he chewed, a little laboriously. "'S good."

"Good. I'm glad you like it." Matthew smiled, readying another forkful. "Now, eat up. It'll help keep your strength up, eh?"

"Ludwig seems a little out of it." Antonio noted worriedly as he sat down, and lowered Alfred's dinner to the floor next to his chair. "Will he be okay?"

"Well, he lost a lot of blood." Alfred explained, sniffing it tentatively and dragging a chunk of meat off the plate and dropping it between his paws to eat. "He whanged his head pretty good, too."

"Hey, hey! What're you _doing?"_ Lovino interrupted, setting his own plate aside and jumping up from his chair to cross and crouch next to Alfred, pulling the meat out from under his nose and dropping it back on the plate. "No! Bad!" He scolded, scrubbing at the floor with his napkin. "Eat on the plate, not the floor! Tch, look at that, you got sauce everywhere."

"It's okay, I'll just lick it up when I'm done eating. Don't worry." Alfred reassured him, lifting a paw when Lovino batted it aside so he could scrub under it. Lovino shot him a _look_.

"Are you _kidding?_ This is a _marble floor_. You can't get stuff like this on it, it's too porous. It'll stain if you let shit sit too long. You eat off the plate." He ordered, setting the plate authoritatively between Alfred's paws and sitting back on his haunches. "_Not_ the floor. Got it?"

"Got it." Alfred agreed, returning to his dinner, eating off the plate this time.

"Good." Lovino ruffled the prince's head and stood, returning to his seat.

"I'm glad to see you two made up, Alfred." Antonio remarked.

"Oh, yeah, the churros worked great." Alfred's tail thumped the floor. "He's not afraid of me at all anymore!"

"That's great." Antonio smiled, patting his head.

"He shouldn't have been afraid of you in the first place." Matthew said pointedly, and Alfred lowered his head and ears, shamefaced.

"I know," Alfred admitted. "I screwed up. But I apologised, and we're okay now. He even climbed the Princess Tower with me!"

Ludwig stopped chewing and closed his eyes, inhaling slowly through his nose; and Alfred's eyes widened, his ears laying flat against his head.

"Hoshit." He muttered. Ludwig swallowed, and opened his eyes to level a stern glare in the direction of the prince, leaning forward and bracing his arms against the mattress in order to keep from keeling over as he growled,

"_Alfred."_

"It was perfectly safe!" Alfred pre-defended. "I haven't fallen off a tower since I got claws, and _anyway_ I usually land on my feet now, and besides, I wouldn't have brought Lovino up there if I thought it was dangerous, and— er, Ludwig?" Ludwig had closed his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was fighting off a headache, and was slowly falling sideways off the bed. Matthew caught him in time, and carefully settled him back against the pillows. Once Ludwig was lying down, Matthew pressed a hand to his forehead, and checked his breathing.

"Well," he said, "he's out. The stress must have been too much for him. Good job, Alfred." He sighed, setting the remains of Ludwig's dinner aside and pulling the covers up around Ludwig's shoulders, tucking him in. "We might as well let him sleep. He finished most of his dinner, at least."

"At least he called me 'Alfred'." Alfred muttered, hunching over his dinner. "Funny how he only ever does that when he's insanely pissed."

"He wouldn't _get_ 'insanely pissed' if you didn't keep doing suicidal things, Al." Matthew couldn't help pointing out.

"It's not suicidal, it's fun!" Alfred protested. "It's barely even dangerous."

"Alfred has an adventurous spirit." Antonio said fondly, ruffling Alfred's ears. "He can't help it."

"He can, and he _must_." Matthew's lips thinned, and he reached for his wine. "Alfred is the crown prince, Antonio. The whole kingdom is depending on him."

"That reminds me," Alfred broke in, "the tournament. Now that Ludwig's out of commission, your training's going to be set back, too. That puts us at a disadvantage." He pushed his empty plate aside, licking his lips, and regarded his brother seriously. "I can help you with strength and stamina training, but that's about it. We're going to have to wait for Ludwig to recover before you can go back to weapons training and horsemanship and stuff." He curled his tail around his paws, flicking one ear back thoughtfully. "If we forfeit some events, and focus on the ones that you're stronger in, we should still be able to rank in the top 10."

"I'd forgotten about the tournament." Matthew admitted, slumping back in his chair. "We were already at a disadvantage. If it were you or Ludwig it wouldn't be a problem, but..." He poked his food listlessly. "I don't know if I can do this, Al. I'm just not cut out for it."

"Don't worry, Mattie, you can do it." His brother encouraged. "You just need a little confidence, and—"

"A _lot_ of training." Matthew interrupted dispiritedly. "Face it Al, I'm just not _made_ for fighting. It's not my forte. With you and Ludwig, it just..." he waved a hand around, frustrated, "comes _naturally_, and —"

"Now, that's not fair." Alfred said seriously. "'Specially to Ludwig. You know better."

"You're right." Matthew rubbed his face with a hand, sighing. "You're right, I'm sorry."

Alfred padded over to his brother, and lay a paw on his knee. "I know it can be frustrating when you're first starting out, but it does get better. You just have to practice, Mattie." Matthew nodded, and managed a smile, placing his hand over his brother's paw.

"I know. I'll do my best."

Alfred thumped his tail.

"Why don't you just make dad do it?" Lovino cut in, gesturing to Antonio. "He's good with weapons and horses and all that shit. He can train you for the tournament."

"I _can!"_ Antonio gasped, realising his son was right. He turned to the princes excitedly. "I can train you, Mattie! I'll teach you everything you need to know to _crush_ your enemies!"

"He will, too." Lovino affirmed.

"Daddy's _very_ good at fighting." Feliciano added his support. "He can train you, Mattie! He can teach you _anything_ you need to know about fighting or riding."

The princes glanced at each other, apparently communicating telepathically, and then looked over at Antonio, twin smiles growing across their faces and a hopeful light in two sets of eyes that made them look remarkably similar despite their physiological differences. They'd seen Antonio fight. If he could teach Matthew even a _fraction_ of what he was capable of...

"Would you?" Alfred asked, wriggling slightly in his excitement. "Really?"

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd be very grateful." Matthew admitted, also wriggling slightly.

"Of course I will!" Antonio exclaimed, pumping his fist emphatically. "I'd _love_ to train you, Matthew!"

Matthew visibly melted in relief, and Alfred made an excited squealing noise, bouncing on his paws a couple times before going up to lick his brother's cheek, and bounding across the room to pounce on Antonio, licking and nuzzling his face, tail (and entire hind end) thrashing madly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, 'Toni! You're a lifesaver!" Antonio laughed and giggled, ruffling Alfred's fur.

"Not at all, Al! We're family, now! I'm happy to help my boys!"

"Hey, I thought of it." Lovino interjected without thinking, and regretted it instantly when Alfred bounded over to lick him, as well.

"Thank you, Lovino!"

"Augh, get off!" Lovino ineffectually attempted to fend off the prince's affections. "Down, boy, down!"

"Hahaha!" Alfred laughed, finally backing off. "This is great!"

"We'll start first thing in the morning." Antonio decided, standing up and placing his hands on his hips. "Now, who wants dessert?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Am I the only one who's noticed that Himaruya always draws Germany's lashes ridiculously long? Especially when he's in profile. Germouser, too. It makes me want to see them up close! <em>

_You may have wondered why Alfred is crown prince, but not king, considering that both his parents are dead. That will be answered. _

_I'm looking forward to Ludwig's recovery. And Antonio's training! Bet that'll be fun._

_Also there were some things I wanted to say about something, but I have to check and make sure I didn't sign any confidentiality agreements first. _


End file.
